How Forever Feels
by HoppyToad
Summary: Everyone keeps telling her that it isn't important how she does it, but she knows they're wrong. It has to be perfect. Even she knows that much. - Five times Santana thought about asking Brittany to marry her and one time she actually does.
1. Chapter 1

"_Saved two months, bought a little diamond, tonight's the night, feels like perfect timin' ..._

_...Man, I'm gonna die if she really says yes, I wanna know how forever feels."_

- **How Forever Feels, Kenny Chesney**

* * *

><p>They're lying in bed when she mentions it. It's been bothering her all day, but it's only now, when she's lying draped across Brittany like this, arms and legs completely tangled, her head resting on Brittany's chest, in that moment when they're drifting off to sleep, that's when she finally brings it up. Not that Santana has any idea why she feels the need to even ask the question. Maybe it's the fact that she's been spending a lot of time with Rachel Berry lately, she has always suspected that that thing where Berry seems to just let every single thought tumble out of her mouth unfiltered may be contagious. Maybe it was having to watch Mr Shue and Ms Pillsbury being all over each other, actually looking happy for once. Or maybe it was the sheer awesomeness of their performance of We Found Love. Or maybe it was just how freaking much Brittany was rocking that swim suit. Or maybe it's a lot of other things that she hasn't even realised yet.<p>

"Would you have said yes?" She knows Brittany is still awake, can tell by her breathing, and now she feels her shift slightly. Santana just presses closer against her.

Thankfully Brittany seems to know what she's talking about. "To Mr Shue?" There's confusion mixing in with the the sleep that laces Brittany's voice.

"To whoever. Just if someone proposed to you like that, would you have said yes?"

Brittany's silent for a moment, and Santana knows she's thinking about her answer, and that makes her nervous. She thought they were past the days where Brittany would carefully choose her words around her, as if worried saying the wrong thing could set Santana off, lead to her being pushed away yet again. "Would you?"

"I dunno. I just think some things should be kept private, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." Now there's nothing but sadness in Brittany's voice and Santana really regrets starting this conversation.

"I guess it was kinda awesome though."

"Yeah, it was."

"It was awesome, and yeah, okay, probably the biggest public display of affection you can have, without actually getting your mack on in front of everyone, but I dunno, I guess it just felt a little like we were intruding or something."

She feels Brittany lacing her fingers with hers under the covers, her other hand is busy drawing shapes across Santana's bare arm, circles at first, then words that Santana can't even begin to make out. She thinks that's maybe Brittany's way of telling her she understands. She hopes it is anyway. She takes a deep breath, then continues, "When I ask you, it's gonna be more personal, more intimate. Big flashy displays like that are so not me. And I guess, I guess I just need to know that you'd be okay with that, that you won't be disappointed with something a little more low key than what Mr Shue pulled off today."

She's not sure at what point in her rambling it happened, but she only notices now that Brittany has frozen, her fingers stopped mid-doodle. She lifts her head, trying to make out Brittany's features, but the lack of light in the room makes that difficult. If she had to guess she'd go with shock. She shouldn't have said anything, she really shouldn't have said anything, she certainly hadn't meant to upset Brittany, she'd just wanted some reassurance that she wouldn't be required to make a fool out of herself in public with this. Not that she wouldn't do so gladly if Brittany asked her too. She's suddenly scared that Brittany might not know that though and quickly tries to backtrack. "But hey, if you want the big public proposal, babe, you'll get it. You know I'd..."

She doesn't get to finish that thought though as suddenly Brittany's lips are on hers, kissing her long, slow and deep. By the time she pulls away, Santana can't even remember what she had been saying. Instead she just blinks a few times. "What was that for?"

"You said when."

"Huh?" Santana finds herself a little lost here, it doesn't help that she's still seeing stars from that kiss.

"You didn't say if. You said when. You wanna marry me."

She swallows, not really sure what to say to that. Okay, so maybe she has been imagining what it might be like a lot lately, to be able to call Brittany her wife, to come home to her every day, and maybe, just maybe one day...

She shakes her head slightly, trying to stop her mind going there just yet.

Brittany must take that as a denial though as she laughs. "You totally do. You want to marry me."

Santana is pretty sure she's blushing right now, and is suddenly very thankful that it's so dark in here. "Well, can you blame me? Not my fault you're so damn marriable."

"Is that even a word?"

"Doesn't matter, it's still true."

And then Brittany is kissing her again, with a little more urgency this time, and soon she's moved from kissing her mouth to her jaw, cheek, basically any part of Santana's face she can. She soon stops though, too soon for Santana's liking, and instead just rests her forehead against hers. "Just so you know, when you do ask me, I'm gonna say yes."

The certainty with which Brittany tells her that sends a shiver running through her body. Knowing that it won't end in rejection takes some of the pressure off, but it doesn't mean that she won't still worry about how to propose. Lying there, staring into Brittany's eyes, she's almost lost to the moment, suddenly wanting it all now, the white picket fence and 2.4 kids, to give Brittany everything she wants. Thankfully her brain kicks into gear, telling her this isn't the time or place. That it's not like they can even get married while they're still living in Ohio, that she needs to be patient and wait, that she's got the girl and that has to be enough for now. So instead she just kisses Britt one more time, then settles back down against her chest. "I'll keep that in mind."

She falls asleep hating Mr Shue for setting the bar so high with his over the top, completely ridiculous proposal, but at some point those thoughts give way to happier ones, of white dresses, flowers, and disturbingly of Rachel Berry serenading her and Britt while they dance close. She wakes up with a start at that image and shudders. Oh yeah, she's definitely been spending far too much time with Berry, something she vows to put a stop to right now.

She glances down at Brittany, who's softly snoring beside her. She leans down and places a kiss against her cheek. "I promise, Britt. When I do ask you, it's gonna be totally awesome. I can do way better than Shue. You'll see."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

"Lopez, come on. You have to help me."

"I really don't." Santana keeps her eyes fixed on her magazine, She wishes she knew just how Drew Larson discovered which dorm room was hers. On second thought maybe it's better that she doesn't know. Drew's a fellow Freshman, who apparently has decided that Santana is his new best friend, not that she's been given a choice in the matter. She's never even been nice to the guy. Okay so maybe one time, second week of the semester. A couple of jocks had been hassling him, she doesn't even know what it was all about. She'd just been in a bad mood, missing home, missing Brittany, and wanted to go all Lima Heights on someone, and those jerks had made an easy target. However this seems to have resulted in Drew developing some kind of fascination with her, like she's some kind of superhero or something, and now she can't seem to shake the guy.

"Seriously, I'm begging here." As if to prove his point, he drops to his knees at the side of her bed, hands clasped together.

She sighs, knowing he isn't going to go away. "What is it with guys asking me to help pick out jewellery for their girlfriends?"

"Is that a yes?"

"No."

"Please, you have to help me. She's gonna dump me. I just know it."

"And you think all you need to do is buy her some bling and she won't?"

"It can't hurt."

"It'll hurt your bank balance. And she'll still dump you. She'll just wait a week. Two if it's decent bling."

"Is that meant to cheer me up?"

"No. It's meant to be the truth. Look I don't know you, but I do know you're a geek. How do I know that? You're wearing a Superman T-shirt. And if The Big Bang Theory has taught us anything it's that geeks will never find love. So I'd suggest you save your money. Go home and play some video games or something." He looks like a kicked puppy, and she hadn't even been that vicious, she'd even held back the first few insults that had sprung to mind. and besides she can't have told him anything he didn't already know.

"Guess I'll leave you alone then." He climbs to his feet, then walks slowly towards the door, as if hoping she'll stop him. She doesn't.

Well she manages to wait five minutes at least, then grabs her jacket and purse and is out the door. She catches up with him at the bottom of the stairs. "Okay here's the deal, Leonard. You buy me coffee. Both on the way to wherever you're dragging me, and then again after we're done."

He grins at her and nods. "Deal."

"I wasn't finished. If we're going to hang out, then I've got quite a few ground-rules that we need to go through." Hey, if she has to have a stalker, then she might as well get something out of it. At the very least she should be able to make him regret ever wanting to be friends with her.

"Do I need to take notes?"

Oh yeah, maybe this might be fun after all.

* * *

><p>Santana's bored, really bored. She doesn't think she's ever been bored in a jewellery store before, didn't think it was even possible, yet here she is, leaning against one of the counters, despite the glares she's getting from the clerk, while Drew stares at the same tray of rings he's been looking at for the past forty-five minutes. No, correction, fifty minutes. "Will you just pick something already?"<p>

The clerk looks like he agrees with her, clearly thinking they're wasting his time. The bell on the door chimes and the clerk looks relieved when a young couple enters and he quickly escapes to help his new customers, telling Drew to let him know when he's made a decision. She thinks that might be a while.

"Do you think a ring's a good idea?"

She doesn't have a clue. If she's honest, she hadn't really been listening when he'd been telling her about his girlfriend. She'd started thinking about Brittany and everything else kind of got tuned out. "How long did you say you've been dating her?"

"Three months."

And the girl is already thinking of breaking up with him? "I'd go with earrings. Or a necklace maybe." Something cheap she wants to tell him, but manages to bite her tongue.

"It's the long distance thing. That's what's done it. Everything was great over the summer. Then she went off to college, and she's making all these new friends. Male friends who are on the football team. Or the basketball team. Or the soccer team."

She knows that feeling, that strange mix of jealousy and panic. She gets it every time Brittany starts telling her about all the people she's met so far in New York. Brittany has always found it easy to make friends, always the life of the party, getting along with everybody. Most of the time she loves that about her, but sometimes it's a worry, that it means someday Brittany will find somebody better than her and move on. Just like Drew's girlfriend is doing to him.

"She sent me a text message last night that said, we need to talk. I've been avoiding her calls since." His shoulders slump slightly. "What would you do?"

"I'd break up with her. Get in there first and save your pride."

"But I don't want to break up with her."

"Only because you don't think you'll ever find anyone else, but there's gotta be some nice girl geeks around here somewhere you might have a chance with. We are at Stanford. It's full of smart women, right? And smart women don't always realise how hot they are, and we can use that. Play on their insecurities." She's suddenly wondering if she maybe spent too much time with Puck last summer.

He doesn't seem convinced. "I don't know how you do it."

"Pick up women?"

"No. The whole long distance relationship thing. How do you make it work?"

"It's different for me and Britt."

"Why?"

"It just is." She doesn't feel like trying to explain it.

He moves further down the case towards the earrings and she leaves him to it. Hopefully it won't take much longer for him to realise that this is a stupid idea. She walks slowly along the display cases, but just can't work up much interest in anything, until she comes to the engagement rings anyway.

Then she stops, and okay maybe she goes through them, judging each one on whether Brittany would like it or not. She's about to decide that none are good enough for her girl when one in the far right corner catches her eye. A silver ring with two dolphins wrapped around a diamond. Brittany would love it, she's sure of it, and she smiles as she allows herself to imagine the way Brittany's face would light up if she gave it to her.

"It's nice." She hadn't heard Drew walk up behind her, so she jumps slightly to find him suddenly leaning over her shoulder to see what she's looking at. "Bet it ain't cheap though."

She's sure he's right, she doesn't even dare ask how much it costs. "Are we done here now?"

"How would you do it?"

She turns to face him, folding her arms. "Do what?"

"Propose to her. The way you were staring at that ring, you can't tell me you haven't thought about it."

"I don't know." He doesn't look like he believes her, so she adds, "I haven't figured it out yet."

"You could always buy the ring and just wing it."

"I'm pretty sure it's not the kind of thing you're supposed to wing. Just remind me again why your girlfriend wants to break up with you?"

"I'm just saying if you love her and want to spend the rest of your life with her, why wait?"

She can think of plenty of reasons. Number one being that she can't afford to buy the ring, let alone pay for a wedding, and she is never going to deny Brittany any expense when it comes to this, isn't prepared to do this on the cheap, to rush it. No, she'll wait for the perfect time. That's the plan and she can't afford to abandon it now. "Look, can we go? I'm pretty sure you owe me a cup of coffee, and some sort of baked good, and I plan to collect on that debt."

"Hey, the deal was for coffee only."

"Seeing as I've saved you a small fortune by stopping you buying jewellery for your soon to be ex-girlfriend, I think you can push the boat out and stretch to a muffin."

"So that's how this friendship is going to work, is it?"

She stops to consider that, trying to decide if she's really going to do this, whether it's possible to learn how to be somebody's friend at her age. It looks like she's going to get to find out. "Yeah, pretty much."

* * *

><p>After keeping his promise of buying her coffee, he even stretches to two cups and a muffin, Drew drops her back off at her dorm. It's an understatement to say he was surprised when she'd asked if he wanted to meet for lunch tomorrow. She tells herself she only does so because it's a Sunday and it's not like she has anything better to do. She also suspects if she didn't, that he'd just turn up on her doorstep anyway, especially as he plans to call his girlfriend when he gets back home and there's no way that conversation is going to end well.<p>

As soon as she's back in her room, she's grabbing her cellphone and calling Brittany. It's answered on the first ring.

"Are you psychic?"

Not the hello she'd been expecting, but she goes with it anyway. "Yes, actually, I've developed superpowers."

"Wait, seriously?"

"No, Britt."

"Oh." She can hear the disappointment in her voice. "That would have been really cool. It's just I was about to phone you when my cell rang."

"Sorry B, it's just a coincidence."

"That's much less awesome than you being psychic." Brittany soon gets over it though. "So anyway, whatcha been doing today?"

"You know that guy that's been kinda stalking me?"

"San, I really don't like the idea of some guy following you around all the time. Can't you call the police and have him arrested or something? "

"Don't worry, babe, he's harmless. I've been hanging out with today. He wanted some help choosing jewellery for his girlfriend."

"You went shopping with your stalker?"

"He's not actually a stalker. I think he just needs a friend."

"And he picked you?"

Santana's not sure if she should be offended by that. "Turns out this girlfriend is about to dump his ass so it looks like I get to spend tomorrow being his shoulder to cry on."

"Do you even know how to be a shoulder to cry on?"

"No, but I'm sure I'll figure it out. I mean how hard can it be?"

"You're gonna make him cry even more, aren't you?"

"Hey, can you at least pretend to have a little faith in me here?"

"It's just..."

"What?"

"You made a friend."

"You don't need to sound so surprised." She throws herself down on the bed, sitting slouched with her back against the wall.

"Sorry, but sometimes you can be a bit..."

"Of a bitch?"

"I was gonna say guarded. You don't let people in."

"I let you in."

"I know, I know. I guess I just don't understand how I can ever be enough for you. You need other people in your life, San. I thought college would give you that. And then when your roommate dropped out after like a week..."

"That was not my fault! I was nothing but pink and fluffy with her."

"Really?"

"Well, mostly pink and fluffy." She can't help it if she's not exactly a morning person, and besides she's pretty sure that girl had other issues.

"I worry about you sometimes."

That's new information, new information that doesn't exactly sit well with her.

"I don't want you to be lonely, Santana. I'd drop out and hop on a plane to California tomorrow if us being apart is going to make you miserable."

"Britt, of course it makes me miserable. I miss you every single day. And it's hard not being with you all the time." She pauses, trying to figure out how to say what she needs to, how to explain this so that Brittany understands. "But I can live with it because I know why we're doing it. I know it's the right thing for us right now. And I also know we're strong enough to survive this."

"I know all that, I do, but sometimes I can't help thinking we're wasting time. We could be living together, Santana. Instead we're actually planning on spending four years apart? Are we crazy?"

"Maybe, but anything else and one of us would have had to make compromises for the other. And I don't want to end up five, ten years down the line with you hating me for it. I couldn't handle that."

"I'm just not sure I can do this without you here with me."

She'd just assumed that Brittany was handling it all fine, turns out she couldn't have been more wrong. "God, how did we end up so co-dependant on each other? A few weeks apart and we're both complete and utter wrecks."

"Just tell me, San, all this following our dreams stuff, do you still think it's all really worth it?"

Santana thinks back to that jewellery store, the price tag on that ring, the house she someday wants them to have and what she needs to do so she's able to give Brittany everything she could ever want, and she's never been more sure of anything in her life. "Yeah, I know it is."


	3. Chapter 3

Things aren't quite going according to plan so far. Not that Santana's even come up with a concrete plan if she's honest. She's winging it, she's painfully aware of that fact, and it's probably this lack of planning that's the reason why she's so nervous about tonight, the reason why she's been sitting in her car outside the Pierces' house for the past hour. She's been here so long that the neighbours are probably getting suspicious that she's casing the place.

It doesn't help that little voice in the back of her head won't shut up, it just keeps asking her just what the hell is she thinking with all this. That voice has eerily started to sound like Drew lately, something she really isn't happy about, and the twenty text messages she's received from him in the past hour really aren't helping. Her phone chooses that moment to beep at her from the passenger seat where she'd thrown it after the last time. She ignores it, closes her eyes and leans back, resting her head against the seat. She'd stopped replying after the sixth text, but he doesn't seem to be taking the hint. She has her reasons for doing this. Perfectly valid reasons and she doesn't appreciate him trying to talk her out of it. She doesn't care that he might have equally logical reasons as to why she shouldn't even be thinking about it, her mind is made up. She's doing this. Well she is if she can ever work up the nerve to get out the car and make it to the front door.

She's not even sure why she's so nervous. Over the years, she's spent more time here than she has at her own home, and they have never done anything except welcome her presence. Back in high school, they'd always seemed to end up here, even though if they'd gone to hers, they'd have had the place to themselves more often than not. She'd always hated it when people told her how jealous they were of the freedom her parents had given her back then. Only Brittany had ever understood why.

A cop car drives past the end of the street, and she's pretty sure that's not the first time since she's been sat here, and she wonders if someone has called the police about her suspicious behaviour. Of course that could just be paranoia. She tends to get that way when she's back in Lima. If it hadn't been for Brittany's family and their Thanksgiving traditions, she'd have stayed at Stanford instead, but she wasn't about to give up the chance of seeing her girl, and she could never have asked Brittany to ditch her family to spend the holiday with her instead.

Her eyes fall back on the house, but she still can't seem to get her body to agree to move. If she's going to do this, she has to do it tonight though. Brittany gets home tomorrow and she'll have missed her chance to speak to the Pierces alone.

Her phone beeps again, and this time she gives in, reaching across the seat for it. As expected both messages are from Drew.

**You know I hate when you're mad at me, a pissed off Santana is kinda terrifying, but I'm just asking you to think about it some more.**

She's thought about it, she's done nothing but think about it, there's a small blue velvet box sitting on the dashboard that proves as much. It had taken her long enough to pick out the damn thing, and maybe it's not quite the expensive ring she'd have liked, but it had still cost her more than she could really afford, and she knows Brittany will love it, so isn't that all that matters? She flicks to the next message.

**I'm only trying to stop you from doing something you'll regret. Think about it.**

The only thing she regrets is confiding in him. His reaction had been to tell her she was being stupid, that she was an idiot if she really thought Brittany was going to leave her anytime soon, and he hasn't stopped since. She'd like to believe him, she really would, but the evidence says otherwise. She knows they're growing apart. The phonecalls, Skype sessions, text messages, they've all been happening less often this semester. Sophomore year is turning out to be a lot harder than she'd expected, and as her workload has increased, it's meant less time for Brittany. It's only a matter of time until Brittany finds someone who can give her their full attention. Well she isn't about to let that happen, and maybe it's selfish of her to want to put a ring on Brittany's finger just so she doesn't loose her, but she doesn't care, she needs this, needs Brittany to know she loves her, still wants a future with her. What she doesn't need is Drew interfering. She types out a reply, just three words, hoping they'll be enough to get him to back off.

**I love her.**

Apparently not as her phone soon buzzes in reply.

**And that's exactly why you shouldn't do this. She deserves better.**

Does he think she doesn't know that already? She knows she's never been good enough for Brittany, never will be, but she believes Brittany when she says that it doesn't matter, even if she doesn't believe her when she tells her it's not true.

She receives another text, and she's about to send a reply telling Drew where to go when she notices the message is from Brittany. Her thumb hovers over the screen for a few seconds before she opens it.

**Tomorrow :D**

That's all it says but it's enough to make her smile, to push away all these doubts that's she's making a huge mistake. She's about to hit reply when she changes her mind and hits call instead.

It's answered after a couple of rings. "Seriously? You couldn't wait...fifteen hours and thirty two minutes to talk to me?"

"Hey, I'm not the one who's apparently counting down the minutes until we see each other." She can't even remember the last time they spoke on the phone. Most times lately when she tries it goes straight to voicemail, and it'll be hours before Brittany phones back, apologizing for missing her call. If she rings her apartment, she just gets Caissie telling her Brittany's out and no, she doesn't know when she'll be home.

"You're not?" There's disappointment in Brittany's voice.

"Well, maybe just a little."

"Knew it. Besides it's kinda sweet that you're so desperate to hear my voice."

She doesn't bother to deny it, they both know it's true. "Not the only thing I'm desperate for."

"Should I be worried that you only want me for my body?"

"Nope, I want you because you're the most awesome person on this planet. The fact that you're smokin' hot is just a bonus."

Brittany sighs and she can hear the frustration in it. "Why'd you have to go and say things like that when you know it just makes me wanna kiss you, but I can't and that sucks."

"You can kiss me all you want tomorrow, babe."

"I'm gonna hold you to that."

"I'd be mad if you didn't."

There's shouting in the background, muffled as if Brittany has her hand over the phone. When she does speak again, the words are rushed. "I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow and I love you."

She doesn't even get chance to say it back before Brittany has hung up on her. That worry in the pit of her stomach starts up again, worry over whether she's holding Brittany back in some way by forcing her to remain faithful to a girlfriend that she never sees, whether it's fair to expect her to do that, and whether she actually is doing that or if she's out with other girls or guys every night. She knows that Brittany won't exactly be short of options in New York.

She picks up the box and is turning it over in her hands when her phone goes off again. Another text from Brittany.

**Fifteen hours and twenty five minutes.**

She makes up her mind, tosses the ring into the glove-box and climbs out of her car, heading quickly up to the house. She can't remember the last time she rang the doorbell instead of just strolling inside like she lived here, but she does so tonight, it doesn't feel right not to. If she's going to do this, to ask for permission to marry their daughter, then she's going to do it properly.

Brittany's mom opens the door, clearly surprised to find her on the doorstep. "Santana? I didn't expect to see you until tomorrow." She stands aside and gestures for her to enter. "Not that we mind. We don't see enough of you these days." She closes the door and then turns to face her, hand on hip, her eyes giving her the once over. "You're not eating enough. You're far too skinny. Come on through and I'll fix you something to eat."

"I'm fine, really, but thanks." She hears her stomach protest at her turning down Cathy's cooking, but she really doesn't trust it to keep anything down.. No, it will just have to wait to be fed. "Is Mr Pierce home?"

Cathy had been heading towards the kitchen but she stops dead, worry starting to show on her face, probably because she hasn't called Jeff 'Mr Pierce' since she was eight years old. "He's in the garage."

"He's still trying to get that car to run?"

"You know how stubborn Pierces can be. When something is important to them, they never give up on it." She guides Santana into the living room. "I'll give him a shout."

Once she's alone, Santana finds herself pacing around the room, not trusting herself to sit still. A photograph on the fireplace catches her eye and she walks over to it, picking it up and studying it. She's used to the Pierce home being full of family pictures, photos of Brittany and the Munchkin from newborn infants through to present day, but she thinks this is the first time she's seen a photograph of her and Brittany on display. She remembers when it was taken, last summer when Brittany's family had met up with them in San Francisco. In the picture she's practically draped over Brittany, hugging her tightly from behind as they stand on Pier 39. She's still staring at it when Cathy reappears, Jeff trailing after her.

Embarrassed, she quickly places it back on the mantle-place, not missing the knowing smile Cathy gives her. Jeff just looks wary. "Santana. How's things?"

"Good, things are good." She wraps her arms around herself. She hasn't felt this nervous around the Pierces since they found out she was more than their daughter's best friend. "Can we sit for a minute?"

They exchange a worried glance, but they both do as she asks, sitting down on the sofa. She stays standing, she almost starts pacing again, but manages to stop herself. They're both looking at her expectantly, but she finds she suddenly hasn't got a clue what to say. She'd spent the past two days practicing the speech she was going to give, but now finds she can't remember a single word of it. She knew she should have written it down, or at least made herself some cue cards.

She must look like she's going to faint, or throw up, or something as suddenly Cathy is on her feet, rushing over to her, and guiding her to the armchair. She sinks down into it, then leans forward, resting her head in her hands.

Cathy perches on the chair arm, her hand rubbing circles on her back. "Santana, whatever's wrong, you can talk to us. You can always come to us with any problems, you know that."

She wishes she knew just how she's managed to screw this up so badly so fast, how it's ended up in them comforting her because she's too scared to ask them a simple question. She takes a deep breath. "I love your daughter." It's a start, even if it's less than brilliant.

Cathy smiles at her, shaking her head. "Honey, we kinda know that."

"I mean I really love her." She stands up, feeling that need to keep moving again. "As in I want to spend the rest of my life with her love her. And so..." She stops, her eyes on Jeff now, watching his reaction. "I would like your permission to ask Brittany to marry me."

They look from her to each other, and then back. Cathy's the first to speak. "That's it? We thought something serious had happened, but you were just nervous about asking us that?"

Them then bursting into laughter isn't quite the reaction she expected.

Cathy manages to recover first. "Sorry, we're just a little surprised that you even feel the need to ask permission. You know Brittany well enough to know she wouldn't care whether we approved or not."

"But I care."

That stops Jeff laughing and he sits up.

"I care what you think. It matters to me that you're okay with this." She wipes at her eyes, willing herself not to start crying in front of them. Her eyes scan over all those family photos again, showing things she's never had with her own family. "You guys are so close. I don't ever want to do anything to ruin that. Never want to put Britt in a situation where she has to choose between you and me."

There's no bitterness in Cathy's voice when she speaks, just fondness. "She'd choose you everytime, Santana, I think we all know that."

She does know that, and maybe that's what scares her. "I don't want her to, I don't ever want her to have to do that."

Cathy walks over to her and puts an arm around her shoulder. "Then it's a good job that as far as we're concerned, you're already a part of this family. And if you want to make that official, then of course you have our blessing."

Jeff climbs to his feet, joining them. "You sure you want to become a Pierce? We've been told we're a little crazy."

Her eyes are drawn to that photograph of her and Brittany. "Then I think I'll fit right in."

"Then welcome to the family." He holds out a hand to her and she shakes it. "Oh, and Santana? You've been with my daughter for what feels like forever, so I know it's maybe a little too late to start doing the overprotective father thing, but just so we're clear, you ever break her heart, I will hunt you down and beat you to death with a shovel. Okay?" He smiles at her and pats her on the back.

She swallows. "I wouldn't expect any less."

* * *

><p>The Pierces had refused to let her leave until she'd eaten something, and somehow that had turned into her joining them for movie night. When The Munchkin had arrived home she'd seemed less than impressed to find her there, but after an hour of sulking in her room, she'd slunk back downstairs and thrown herself down on the sofa next to Santana, asking her questions about college life.<p>

After the film has ended and she's heading home, Jeff had walked her out to her car and asked if she wanted to stay the night, go with them in the morning to pick Brittany up. She wonders if they're expecting her to propose to Brittany in a crowded airport the minute she steps off the plane, the thought of having to do this in front of hundreds of strangers doesn't sit well with her so she declines, and heads back to her house.

To say she's surprised her mother's car is in the driveway when she gets home is an understatement. She slips inside the house, trying not to make any noise, she hopes she'll be able to escape upstairs. A conversation with her mother is the last thing she wants right now. Apparently luck isn't on her side tonight.

"Santana?" Her mother calls to her from the kitchen.

She sighs, wondering if she could just make a bolt for the stairs, would get away with pretending she didn't hear her. Somehow she doubts it. She wanders through to the kitchen. "Hey, Mama."

Her mother is sitting at the breakfast bar, paperwork spread out in front of her. Santana also doesn't miss the open bottle of red wine, the half empty bottle of red wine. "I thought you weren't getting home until tomorrow." She can hear irritation in her voice, and she finds she isn't surprised in the slightest.

She just shrugs. Maybe she should have stayed at Brittany's after all.

"It would be nice if you ever took the time to let us know your plans occasionally."

"I'm sorry, were you planning on throwing me a welcome home party? No? Then what difference does it make if I get home today or tomorrow?"

She's surprised when her mother lets that one go. "If you're expecting dinner, showing up unannounced like this..."

"I ate at the Pierces." She knows exactly what she's doing letting that information slip out, knows exactly how her mother will react.

"Of course, you go over there and see them before coming to see your own parents."

"I didn't think you'd even be home and I needed to talk to them about something."

"Anything that you're going to let us in on?"

She hadn't planned on telling them actually, not until after she asked Brittany, but she finds herself curious as to how they'll take it. She has a pretty good idea though. "Nothing major. I'm just going to ask Britts to marry me."

Her mother's face is even better than she'd hoped. Disbelief is the main emotion, but she's sure she detects a flicker of anger. Oh yeah, this is going to go well. "You're going to do what?"

She considers repeating it in Spanish, just for effect, but thinks that might be taking it too far. "I'm going to ask Brittany to marry me."

Her mother just stares at her, then slowly shakes her head. "No. you're not."

Okay so maybe she hadn't quite expected that. "Yes, I am." She folds her arms, her eyes narrowing as she holds her mother's gaze. "You don't get a say in this."

"I bet you expect us to pay for it though. Well, no, you're too young to make this kind of decision. How do you even plan on supporting her while you're still in college? Or are you planning to drop out, go find some dead end job? Because I'm not about to stand by and let that happen."

"Brittany doesn't need me to support her, and like I said this doesn't concern you."

"As long as we're paying to put you through college, then yes, it does."

"I never asked for your money."

"No, but you had no trouble taking it though, did you? You ungrateful little..." She trails off as the front door suddenly slams shut.

Santana turns to find her father walking down the hall towards them. "You can hear you two arguing from the front step." He places his briefcase down on the counter. "Welcome home, Santana. This must be a new record for shortest time you're home before you two are screaming at each other."

Her father turns to her, clearly looking for an explanation. She doesn't plan on giving him one though. "Whatever." She turns and storms out of the room, in an exit that she thinks even Rachel Berry would be proud of. She feels a sudden need to get out of this house, but as she reaches the front door, she realises she'd put her car keys down on the kitchen counter, so she's now stranded here. She's about to go hide in her room instead, but something stops her at the bottom of the stairs. Through the half open door, she sees her father take the bottle of wine away from her mother, and walk over to what she guesses is the sink. She sinks down onto the second step and just listens.

"Going to tell me what you two are fighting about now?"

"Did you know that your daughter is planning on throwing her life away? That she's going to propose to that girlfriend of hers?"

She hates when her mother talks about Brittany like that, and she has to fight the urge to walk back in there and kick off with her again.

"She's nineteen, for gods sake, nineteen and thinking about tying herself down for the rest of her life. She should be focusing on college, on her future."

"Maybe she is thinking about the future. You can't really be surprised by this news?"

"I didn't expect it so soon. They're too young. You know they are. She hasn't even thought this through." Her mother has her head in her hands, elbows resting against the counter.

"You don't know that."

"I do because she's smart. If she'd thought about it for even two minutes, she wouldn't be doing this."

"And you couldn't have calmly explained your concerns, instead of yelling at her?"

"She wants me to yell at her. You know that."

"Yeah, I know." She sees him kiss her mother softly on the cheek, the kind of affection she's rarely ever seen between them. "I'll talk to her."

He turns and leaves the kitchen, stopping when he sees she's only gone as far as the stairs. He pulls the kitchen door closed behind him, then sits down on the step below her. "She doesn't know how to talk to you. She's never known how to talk to you."

"Oh please, she's never even tried." She doesn't want to sit here and listen to him make excuses for her mother. He's been doing it for years and it's never once made a difference to anything.

He sighs, rubs at his forehead and she wonders if he's getting a headache. He usually complains that he ends up with one when he has to listen to the two of them fight. "She's tried. You know she's tried."

She doesn't know what he's expecting from her here. They don't do this in her family, talk about emotions and feelings. Her parents are about as good at having these types of conversations as she is, and if they don't know how to talk to her, well she has even less idea how to talk to them.

"I take it you've already discussed this with the Pierces?"

It's not really a question, he already knows the answer, so she just shrugs.

"And they support the idea?"

"Her dad warned me that I'd better never break her heart, but yeah, they do."

"He did what?" Her father turns to look at her, and she's surprised to see anger in his eyes. "Doesn't he know by now that you would never do that? She's the one who will end up breaking your heart."

He sounds so certain that's what is going to happen, and it starts a tightness in her chest. She can't hold his gaze, fixes her eyes on the carpet instead, knowing if she doesn't, she just might start crying in front of him, and he definitely won't have a clue how to handle that.

His voice has softened when he next speaks. "It scares me sometimes just how much you love that girl. She's the only person you've ever let in. It's like she's the only thing in your life that's important to you, that means anything. And I worry about what will happen if one day she decides she can do better."

She knows everybody thinks it, she's always known that, but it still stings whenever somebody says it out loud, tells her that she isn't good enough for Brittany. "She loves me." She hates that her voice wavers slightly when she says it, hates that there's still that little ball inside her that makes her doubt it sometimes, even after all this time.

"Love isn't always enough, Santana. Marriage is a massive commitment, and I can't help feeling that you're rushing into this. I'm just wondering why you feel like you have to do this now. I'm fairly certain that it isn't because you've gotten her pregnant."

Did her father just attempt to make a joke? That on top of him actually taking the time to have a conversation with her, has her wondering if she's in some kind of Bizarro world here.

"Have you even thought of the logistics of it? What happens to college if you marry her? Do you plan to drop out and move to New York to be with her?"

"No, I..." She trails off, not having any answers to give him. She hasn't thought much beyond getting a ring on Brittany's finger. This isn't so much about the marriage as it is about the engagement, of the promise of marriage.

"Then what? You expect her to move out to California?"

She shakes her head, she would never ask that of Brittany.

"So you think that you can get married and nothing in your lives will change?" He sounds confused now. "Then what exactly is the point of all this?"

The point is to kill that worry that Brittany's going to leave her, to prove that they're endgame to all those who keep trying to tell her otherwise.

He seems to realise that she isn't going to answer him, and he slowly climbs to his feet. "It might not feel like it, but we only want what's best for you, Santana. We're just asking that you give this some more thought, don't make any rash decisions. Be sure that you're doing this for the right reasons. That it's the right time, for both of your sakes."

He starts to walk away, but she shouts after him. "How will I know?"

He turns back, frowning at her. "Know what?"

"Everyone keeps saying that. Make sure it's for the right reasons, it's the right time. How the hell am I supposed to know if it is?"

He seems to be thinking about that. "You just will." He glances towards the kitchen door and he starts to smile. "When it's right, everything will fall into place and you'll just know."

He disappears back into the kitchen, closing the door after him again, leaving her to think over his words.

* * *

><p>The next day, Santana finds herself sitting on Brittany's front step, waiting for them to get home. She'd spent the morning pacing her house, until eventually her mother had lost it and told her she'd better go take a walk. Clearly her parents have gotten used to having the house to themselves, she's probably lucky they haven't yet turned her room into a study.<p>

So now she's been sat outside Brittany's house for at least an hour, just waiting.

She must have zoned out at some point, as she doesn't notice the Pierce's car until it's actually pulling up into the driveway. She climbs to her feet and starts to walk towards it, her hands in her pockets, her left fingers closing around that blue velvet box she has safely stashed in her pocket.

The back door is thrown open before the car has even come to a complete stop, and a blur of blonde hair is heading straight for her and in seconds Brittany collides with her, strong arms wrapping around her. She might have been able to keep on her feet if she'd had more warning, or if she hadn't had her hands in her pocket, but instead they both go tumbling to the ground. Luckily they land more on the lawn than the driveway, maybe slightly in a flower bed.

Brittany must have somehow managed to twist them as they fell, as Santana finds she's ended up lying pretty much on top of her, Brittany's arms still tight around her.

Brittany just grins up at her, apparently completely unfazed by the fall. "Hi."

"Hi." She leans down and presses their lips together. She's about to deepen the kiss when she notices a pair of feet enter her field of vision, stopping on the path next to them.

She reluctantly pulls away from Brittany and follows them up to find the Munchkin rolling her eyes at them. "Mom, are they gonna be like this the whole time they're home?"

"Probably." Cathy suddenly appears, placing a hand on the Munchkin's shoulder and guiding her towards the house. "Leave them be. Brittany, I suggest you try not to break your girlfriend though. She's broken enough bones in this yard over the years, don't you think?"

Jeff shouts to them from the car. "I think she's destroyed enough of my plants too. So can you try to avoid the flower beds at least?"

Santana groans and rolls over, so she's lying on her back next to Brittany. "Are they ever going to let me forget that?"

"You did fall out a tree trying to climb in through my bedroom window."

"I was thirteen."

"Yeah, exactly."

"Whatever. Anyway it was totally worth it."

"You broke your arm."

"Yeah, but your parents never once tried to stop me sleeping over after that, did they?"

Jeff walks by them, carrying Brittany's bags. "We were worried that the next time you'd break your neck, and that was sure to involve paperwork of some kind. It just seemed like less hassle to let you stay over whenever you wanted."

"Thanks, good to know you were so concerned about me." She feels Brittany's fingers reaching out for hers, lacing their fingers together until she's holding her hand. Brittany rolls over onto her side, looking down at her. Santana knows that look in her eyes, and swallows. Her eyes dart towards house, checking that everyone else has gone inside. Thankfully they have, because Brittany suddenly shifts so she's straddling her, apparently not caring that they're lying on the front lawn, in full view of the neighbours, in broad daylight.

Brittany leans down, clearly intent on capturing her lips again, but then she stops, just hovering over her. "I've missed you, like really missed you."

Santana tries to lean up to kiss her, but Brittany pulls back. She's still giving her that look though and she springs to her feet, with the kind of grace that only she can, and holds out her hand to Santana. "Come on." When she takes her hand, Brittany pulls her easily to her feet. "Inside." She pushes her towards the house, slapping her ass as she does so.

"Hey."

"What? You love it." Brittany shrugs, and yeah, it's not like Santana can argue that fact.

Once they're in the house, Santana starts to head through to the kitchen to follow the others, but Brittany grabs her arm and tugs her the other way instead. "Upstairs."

"But your parents..."

"Upstairs." There's urgency in Brittany's voice that Santana finds she can't ignore. They're halfway up when Cathy appears at the bottom of the stairs.

"Where are you sneaking off to? I was going to make lunch."

Brittany keeps pulling Santana onwards. "Not hungry. Need to unpack."

Santana wonders if she should point out that Brittany's bags are still sitting at the front door.

* * *

><p>Once again nothing is going quite the way Santana had planned. Not that she's about to complain, not with a very naked Brittany lying beside her, not after how they've spent the past few hours. Least she thinks it's hours, if only by how her stomach seems to be complaining about the lack of food it's been given today. Not that she plans to give in to it anytime soon. She doesn't trust it to keep anything down. It keeps doing that flip flop thing everytime she thinks about that velvet box that's in her jacket pocket. Well she hopes it's still in her jacket pocket. Now that she thinks about it she's not even sure what happened to her jacket after Brittany had practically ripped it off her as soon as they were in the bedroom.<p>

She sits up on her elbows, following the trail of clothes that runs from the bed to the door. Her jacket is at the end of that trail and a wave of panic hits her. She's seen that episode of Friends enough times to know how easily that stupid box could fall out and give the game away before she's ready. She wonders if leaping out of her girlfriend's bed, gathering all her clothes and fleeing to the bathroom would be acceptable behavior, or if Brittany might take it the wrong way. Yeah, she really needs to somehow calm down here, get back to the plan, although it would have helped if she'd actually had a plan to get back to. She'd been so focused on finding the right ring, on getting the Pierce's permission, that she's kind of forgot the most important part. Just how is she going to propose? That's an alarm bell that she's not sure she can ignore, not with her parent's words still echoing through her head. She sinks back into the bed. Maybe they were right about all this. Maybe she's just being paranoid about losing Brittany. Lying here like this, it doesn't feel like she has anything to worry about on that front, but then it never does when they're together, but when there's that distance between them...

She feels a hand settle on her bare stomach, and it makes her jump slightly. Brittany has at some point rolled over, her head propped up on her hand, a quiet intensity in her eyes. "You're so beautiful." Slowly that hand starts to make it's way upwards, fingers tracing patterns across her skin that feel like they're burning into her flesh. "I think sometimes I forget just how beautiful you are." Fingers run through the valley of her breasts, up along her collarbone, across her jaw. "And I'm sorry if sometimes I let _you _forget that." Finally she rests her hand against her forehead and she frowns, confusion in her eyes.

Santana doesn't like that look. "What?"

"You're thinking."

"Yeah, I do that sometimes."

"No, you're really thinking. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

Now there's only worry in Brittany's eyes, maybe a touch of hurt, but she doesn't say anything. Instead she just leans down and presses a soft kiss against Santana's lips, the complete opposite of their earlier hungry kisses.

She suddenly can't think in this room, in this house. Everything is Brittany and she feels likes she's drowning in her. "Do you think we could get out of here? Go for a walk or something?"

There's now only more confusion in Brittany's eyes, but then she shifts into a sitting position, leaning off the bed to start collecting their clothes. "Yeah, sure, baby, anything you want."

* * *

><p>They don't talk much while they're wandering the streets of Lima, just some minor small talk about how classes are going. She's not missed the way that Brittany has been clinging to her hand the whole time though. Santana keeps her other hand in her pocket, making sure she doesn't loose this ring before she actually works up the courage to ask the question.<p>

They end up at the park, though she isn't one hundred percent sure which one of them is responsible for bringing them here. No-one else is around, she suspects the cold weather and the rain that is threatening to start is keeping everyone away. They walk to the playground and they each claim a swing and just sit in silence for a while.

In a way she hates being here. This place is full of ghosts for her. At one time, this place had only held good memories for her, had always meant Brittany. God, the amount of time they must have spent here feeding those stupid ducks. Brittany has always swore blind that they had first met here, on the monkey bars. Santana knows otherwise, that they had in fact met a week earlier, when she had pushed Puck into the pond for making fun of the little blonde girl who was afraid of the ducks. She's never corrected Brittany though as she's always liked Brittany's story better. It doesn't make her sound like a sociopath like the truth does. Maybe that's why they're here of all places. Whenever she tries to think of where to propose, the only thing that pops into her head is some Brad Paisley song that Drew is always listening to, where the guy asks the girl to marry him on the spot where they first met, and she guesses that's supposed to be romantic or something. The problem is she ruined everything that this place should have meant to them when she first brought _him_ here, shared this place with him, shared herself with him in ways she knows now she never should have. She still can't look at that stupid fucking roundabout without thinking of him, of all the nights they spent sitting huddled together on it, drinking beer, smoking pot, then one night finally letting him fuck her for the first time.

All this place makes her feel is shame, this place now just a painful reminder of all the times she screwed up in high school, of all the reasons that she's never deserved this girl who means everything to her.

It isn't until Brittany is suddenly kneeling in front of her, placing her hands over hers, that she realises she's trembling. She can feel the tears starting, and the way Brittany is looking at her, fear written all over her face isn't helping with that.

Brittany squeezes her hands. "Santana..."

"I'm fine." The words come out harsh, though she hadn't intended them to and Brittany flinches slightly. One of the many voices in her head is screaming at her that she's going to end up hurting Brittany if she doesn't put some distance between them right now, she needs to think for a moment, needs to stop her mind from racing like this before her instincts to protect herself can kick in and make her lash out at Brittany. She stands, pulling her hands out of Brittany's grasp, pushing past her and walking over to the railing that surrounds the playground, leaning against it, her back to the blonde.

She still can't stop shaking. Also breathing seems to be becoming an issue. Her father's words seem to be finally making sense to her. Don't do this for the wrong reasons. The problem is she's not sure if she even knows what the right reasons are.

Brittany's hovering at her side, biting down on her lower lip as if she's not sure what she should be doing, how to help her.

"I'm fine." She can't think of anything else to say, and even if they both know it isn't true, she hopes Brittany will at least pretend to believe her.

Brittany doesn't say anything, just removes her jacket and places it around Santana's shoulders. She almost shrugs her off, but manages to stop herself at the last second and allows her to do so. Hands slide down to her waist and she finds herself being turned to face her. Warm lips are suddenly on her cold ones, as her mouth is captured in a soft, slow kiss. When they break apart, Brittany doesn't move away, instead the hands on her waist pull her closer. "I love you."

"I love you." Her reply is almost automatic, pure instinct, but she means it, more than anything.

"Good." Brittany nods slightly, her face softening in relief. "Now can we go home? It's kinda freezing out here."

She finds her eyes are drawn back across to the swings, briefly drifting over to the roundabout, then the monkey bars. The only thought in her head is wrong time, wrong place. "Sure thing, babe." She slides her hand into Brittany's and lets her lead her home.

* * *

><p>When they make it back to Brittany's house, they enter to find her parent's hovering in the hallway.<p>

Brittany frowns at them. "What's with the welcoming committee?"

Their faces had been full of excitement, but they must notice Santana's expression as they don't say anything.

The Munchkin appears in the kitchen doorway. "They've been like this all day. I think they're on something."

Jeff recovers first, stepping forward to stand between them and throwing an arm around each of their shoulders. "What, we can't be excited that our girls are home for the holidays?" He guides them into the living room. As they pass Cathy, Santana can't help noticing the disappointment on her face.

They order pizza and are soon watching a movie, something that's always been something of a Pierce family tradition. The minute that Brittany is distracted having an argument with The Munchkin, one that quickly intensifies enough that Jeff has to step in to referee it, Santana slips away into the kitchen, needing a moment to herself.

She leans against the counter, palms flat against the surface, trying to get herself together. The last thing she wants is to start crying in the middle of the Pierce's kitchen. That stupid velvet box feels like it's burning in her pocket, so she snatches it out and tosses it onto the worktop.

The burning doesn't stop though, if anything it's worse now she can actually see the stupid thing. She reaches for it, turning the box over and over in her fingers, before eventually she snaps it open and she stares down at the ring.

"You didn't ask her."

Santana freezes at the sound of Cathy's voice. "How do you know I didn't ask her and she said no?"

"Oh honey, she'd never say no to you. I know my daughter well enough to know that." She feels a hand rest on her shoulder. "Is that the ring?"

Santana turns around and holds out the box to her.

Cathy carefully takes it off her and actually gasps when she sees it. "It's beautiful, Santana."

"No, it's not. It's wrong, it's all wrong." Cathy tries to hand her the ring back, but she refuses to take it, takes a step away from her instead. "Everything about this whole idea was wrong."

"How so?"

"I was doing it for the wrong reasons." She wipes furiously at her eyes, in a vain attempt to stop the tears. "I just miss her so much, you know? And I just thought that this would maybe make it easier. That maybe we could survive this long distance thing if we had that commitment or something. But then I realised that it'd only..."

"Make it harder?"

"No." She shakes her head. "It wouldn't make it harder." Cathy frowns at her, and Santana can tell she isn't following any of this. "It wouldn't make it harder, it wouldn't make it easier, it wouldn't change a damn thing. That's the whole point." She pauses for a moment, takes a deep breath, trying to think of a way to explain. "I love your daughter."

Cathy's face softens. "I've never doubted that, Santana, never."

"I love her and I know that I'm going to spend the rest of my life with her. I don't need a wedding ring on her finger to tell me that. It was stupid to think that I did. I don't know what I was thinking, but I was wrong, it just felt wrong." She can't hold back the tears any longer and she hates herself for that. Cathy takes a step towards her, reaching out to try and pull her into a hug, but Santana waves her off. "I'm fine, I just need a minute."

Unfortunately Brittany chooses that moment to appear in the kitchen doorway. "San?"

In seconds she's at her side, sliding her arms around her, holding her tight. Thankfully with her full attention on Santana, she doesn't appear to notice her mother slipping the ring behind her back, keeping it out of sight. Santana shoots Cathy a grateful look. Brittany however turns her head to glare at her mother, a look that Santana takes to mean what the hell did you do to turn my girlfriend into a crying wreck. Or it could simply mean can you give us a moment, as Cathy is soon retreating into the other room, leaving them alone.

She needs to delay the conversation that's about to happen, needs to have it later when she's had chance to rehearse her answers when Brittany asks her what's wrong, so the second Cathy's gone, Santana leans up and starts kissing Brittany, pushing her backwards until she's up against the kitchen counter. Her hands drop down to the edge of Brittany's shirt, and she slides one hand underneath, with the other she fumbles at the button on Brittany's jeans. This however only seems to break Brittany out of her daze, and she grabs her hands quickly, stilling them. "My parents are in the next room."

Well so much for trying to distract her with sex. Her brain decides that picking a fight might just be her only option left. "That didn't seem to be an issue earlier when you practically dragged me into your bedroom so you could fuck my brains out."

"There's a difference between them being okay with us having sex in their house, and them walking in on us going at it on the kitchen counter, and you know it."

"You know what, fine, you don't want me? Then I'll leave."

She starts to pull away from her, but Brittany refuses to let go of her hands. "Wait, what are you talking about?"

She manages to break free and is out the back door and storming towards her car before Brittany can follow her. It isn't until she's on the driveway that she realises she's left her keys inside, and so won't be getting very far. She kicks at one of her tires, twice for good measure. "Idiot!"

"So now you're taking it out on your car? Really?"

"Leave me alone, Britt."

"No."

It isn't that far to her house. She can walk it, right? Even if she suspects Brittany might just follow her the whole way home if she does. She'll take her chances though. She makes a move towards the sidewalk, but Brittany moves to block her path, closing the distance between them. Santana backs away but only finds herself trapped against her car, leaving her nowhere to go. Brittany slides her arms around her, holding her in place. She starts to fight her, to pull free again, but Brittany just tightens her grip. "Stop, just stop."

She makes the mistake of looking at her, and when she finds tears streaming down Brittany's face, she feels all the fight drain out of her. She drops her eyes to the ground, not being able to watch and know this is all her fault.

"You have to stop this. I've tried being patient, not pushing you, waiting for you to tell me what's going on in that head of yours, but all you're doing is shutting me out." Brittany cups her face, gently lifting her head so she's forced to keep eye contact with her. "Something's wrong. I know something's wrong, but you just keep lying to me and saying you're fine. But you're not fine, Santana." She bites back the urge to say she's fine again, just lets Brittany continue. "And my brain is imagining all these things that could be wrong and..."

Santana doesn't let her get any further, cutting her off with a kiss instead. She kisses her fast and deep, her tongue seeking entrance to her mouth and being granted it almost immediately. Brittany soon pulls away though as if realising what Santana is trying to do.

"No, stop. You're doing it again."

This time Santana manages to break out of her grasp, and walks a few feet away from her. "Just what exactly is it that I'm doing?"

"You're messing with my head." Brittany takes a step towards her but stops when she takes a step back. "First you're not talking to me, then you're crying, then you're trying to seduce me, then you're mad at me, now you're trying to seduce me again."

Okay so maybe she is acting a little bipolar, but it certainly isn't intentional.

"And I don't know what the hell is going on, and that terrifies me."

"Do you love me?"

"How can you ask me that? Do I not tell you enough? Because I'm not sure how many more times a day I can say it, how many more ways I can show you."

She turns her back to her, wrapping her arms around herself. "Maybe you used to do that, but lately, we hardly ever talk anymore, Brittany."

"And who's fault is that?" The anger in Brittany's voice causes her to spin around to face her. "You're the one who wanted to go to different colleges. You practically pushed me to move to New York. And now you're mad about it? What did you think was going to happen when we're living on different coasts?"

"So you _are_ cheating on me?"

"What? No. Where is this coming from?"

Santana can only shrug.

"I love you. Why would I ever want anyone else?"

"You claimed you loved Artie. It didn't stop you cheating on him."

"With you. I cheated on Artie with you. I'm not the only one who has a history of cheating, Santana, but I have never once thought that little of you to think you'd screw around behind my back."

She's really messed up here, that fact hits her when Brittany is pushing past her and walking quickly back towards the house. She knows she has to act fast if she has any hope of fixing this. She jogs after her and manages to catch up to her just before the front porch, grabbing her arm. "Britt, wait, I'm sorry."

Brittany shakes free of her grasp, but does stop walking. "I love you. I love you and I would never hurt you like that. Why are you suddenly doubting that?"

She always doubts that, hasn't Brittany figured that out by now? She doesn't think she'll ever understand how she got so lucky, why Brittany ever fell in love with her in the first place, so it's just natural for her to be scared that one day that will all end. Normally she can keep those thoughts at bay, normally she has Brittany constantly reassuring her of the fact, but once that was taken away, well she's left like this, paranoia having well and truly set in. She needs to pull herself together though, or that paranoia is only going to end up destroying them. "Because I love you so fucking much I can't think straight. And I miss you, and I'm scared to death of losing you, and..."

"You are not going to lose me." Brittany slides her arms around her waist again now, resting her hands at the small of her back. "Just tell me, what do I have to do to prove that to you?"

It would be so easy to say it. Two words. Marry me. But she's suddenly been left with no doubt that she doesn't want it to happen like this, that this isn't the way it's supposed to happen, that it's supposed to come out of love. Doing it right now just makes it fruit of the poisoned tree, and she knows she can't do that to them. "You don't have to prove anything to me."

"But..."

"Don't. This is just me being me. I let my head get all messed up and I'm sorry."

Brittany rests her forehead against hers, and all she can see is blue eyes, concern and love. "I don't think I'll ever understand it."

"Understand what?"

"That even now you still don't see how amazing you are, that you still can't see why I'm so completely in love with you and everything you are. I hate that people can still get inside your head and make you feel like this, feel like you don't deserve to be loved. And I hate that I can't seem to make you see that you do, but I'm not giving up on, Santana, I'm going to keep trying, and maybe one day you'll finally realise that I'm the lucky one here."

She's about to argue, to tell her how she's wrong and that she's the lucky one, always has been, but Brittany shakes her head, a silent plea for her not to do that, to let her continue. "Because I am. So very lucky that out of all the people in the world you could have chosen to be with, you fell in love with me."

"How could I not have fallen in love with you? When from the beginning it's always just felt like we fit together, you know?"

"I know."

"But sometimes I guess I forget that when we're apart, and you're so busy all the time, always out when I call, I feel like we're drifting apart, and I don't want that, Britt. I can't handle that, so I went a little crazy I guess."

She doesn't miss the flash of guilt that crosses Brittany's face.

"What is it?"

Brittany pulls away from her, walks over to the front porch and sits down, resting her head in her hands. "This is all my fault. I should have told you."

"Told me what?" She sits down beside her, wrapping an arm around her, Brittany resting her head on her shoulder.

"I got a job. Waitressing part time at a diner. Things aren't cheap in New York, I needed some extra cash so I've been working shifts in the evenings."

Everything suddenly falls into place, why Brittany is never home when she calls, why she always sounds exhausted the times that they have spoken lately. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You worry enough about things as it is."

"But if you were short of money, I could have helped."

"San, I don't want you to feel like you have to support me. And I don't want you to think that I'm a failure, that I've let you down."

She presses a soft kiss to the top of Brittany's head. "You could never let me down. If anything I'm kinda impressed. Classes and working? Hell, I'm struggling just to keep up with school. I don't know how you do it, Britt, but I'm proud of you. Just wish you'd have told me."

"Me too. Then maybe you wouldn't have freaked out like you did."

"I think I still would have. In case you hadn't noticed I'm kinda terrified of losing you. I don't know what I'd do if I ever had to live without you."

"I don't plan on ever letting you find out."

"Good to know."

They sit in silence until Santana feels Brittany start to shiver against her. "I think we'd better go back inside. Your folks are probably wondering where we've disappeared to."

"Yeah." Brittany lifts her head up to look at her. "San?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"Is there anything else that you're not telling me?"

She thinks about that blue velvet box and shakes her head. She leans down and starts to kiss her, soft and slow.

It's another ten minutes before they make it back inside, rejoining the rest of the Pierces in the living room. Cathy gives them a questioning glance, but doesn't say anything.

Later though Cathy ambushes her when she's on her way back from the bathroom.

"You okay?"

Santana nods. "Yeah. Like I said, wrong place, wrong time is all."

Cathy holds out that blue box and offers a small smile. "Well, guess you're just going to have to hang onto this until it is right then, aren't you?"

She can do that. After-all she knows that Brittany is always going to be worth waiting for.


	4. Chapter 4

Santana's eyes are starting to go blurry. That's usually a warning sign that it's time to take a break. She's already ditched her contacts and switched to glasses, yet the words on the page are still getting difficult to read. She's been pouring over these files and books for what must be hours now, but at least she's making some progress, even if it is painstakingly slow progress. She's taken over one of the conference rooms, has her paperwork spread over half the table. This time on a Friday night at McCoy, Graham and Baker, everyone else has long since gone home, she's likely the only person left in the building apart from the security guard, but they're in court Monday, and no way is she leaving the office for the weekend without this being completed.

She's finally feeling like she's getting somewhere at this firm. Her billable hours are adding up, she has more than the other Junior Associates, and this is the first case that she's actually worked on with a senior partner and she isn't about to screw that up. She might not know Nathan Graham very well, but she knows his reputation. He isn't an easy man to impress, but she's determined to do just that. If that means having to put in some more hours, then she will, she'll work all weekend if she has to. Well, she will as long as Brittany doesn't get pissed at her for doing so.

She reaches for her bottle of water only to find it's empty. What she wouldn't give for some coffee right now, it might just wake her up enough so can she actually understand this sentence, as she's pretty sure she's read it six times and each time it only seems to make less sense.

"You're going to give yourself a migraine."

She jumps at the sound of Brittany's voice, wondering if she's starting to hallucinate. She thinks dehydration can do that. She looks up to find Brittany standing in the doorway, a worried expression on her face.

"I'm fine. What are you doing here?"

Brittany's carrying a takeout bag with her, containing what smells like Chinese. "We were supposed to be going out for dinner tonight."

It all comes back to her suddenly, promising Brittany that they'd spend some time together this weekend, that they'd reinstate date night since neither of them can remember the last time they went out. She's been working late a lot, and it hasn't helped Brittany has been having to work weekends at the studio, and so they really haven't seen that much of each other lately. "Shit, Brittany. Why didn't you say something when I said I was staying late again?"

"Because I get it, I know how important your work is to you. So I figured that if we can't go out to eat, then I'd bring dinner to you."

Her stomach is already growling at her, as if telling her she'd better not turn down the chance to feed it. "God, I fucking love you."

Brittany smiles, relief on her face. "I wasn't sure if you'd be mad. Me turning up at your office, uninvited." She enters the room, almost gliding over to the table, where she starts laying out the food at the opposite end from where Santana has all her work laid out.

"Be mad to see you?" Santana shakes her head. "Never. Though I am a little curious about how you managed to even get up here. You use your ninja skills or something to sneak in the building?"

"That's the bad news. I had to bribe that creepy security guard downstairs with half the Chow Mein Chicken for him to let me in."

She thinks maybe she should worry that's all it takes for a stranger to be allow past security. Maybe she needs to suggest the firm double check the guy's references. "Well as long as it was only the Chow Mein Chicken, I think it was worth it." She stands and walks over to join her.

As soon as she reaches her, Brittany automatically hands her a bottled water, then continues organizing the food. "I'm gonna start making you a packed lunch each morning. Then I don't have to worry about you not eating. And don't pretend to be too cool for that. I'd make awesome packed lunches."

"I know you would, Britt." She really does believe that, it's Brittany, even if she does suspect they may be a little unusual in content. She perches on the edge of the table, opens the bottle, and taking a long drink.

"And besides it'd be good practice for when I have to make school lunches."

She only just manages to avoid doing a spit-take. Last month when Brittany had made some casual remark about _when_ they have kids, a comment that had resulted in her nearly having a full blown panic attack, and ever since then Brittany has taken great delight in bringing it up as often as she can, her eyes twinkling as she watches her reaction. She doubts Brittany will find it as much fun if one of these times she really does have a heart attack. Sure she does want to start a family with Brittany, but someday in the far, far distance future, once she's sorted her career out and knows she won't have to worry about keeping a roof over their heads, worry about having more than their two mouths to feed.

Brittany just shakes her head slightly, though she does give her a smile that means I love you but you're such a goober at times. "Anyway, you need to eat." Brittany pulls out one of the chairs and gestures for her to sit down.

They make short work of the takeout. Normally they talk their way through meals, but she's so hungry that she can't do anything except shovel food into her mouth. She's not even sure if she has eaten anything at all today. Maybe the whole packed lunch thing isn't a bad idea after all.

Most of the cartons are empty now, though Brittany hasn't had half as much as she has. "Do you want the last of the noodles?" She turns and finds Brittany staring at her. "What?"

"You're wearing your glasses."

"Yeah."

"You're so hot when you do that. I mean you're hot all the time, but you in glasses..." She's sure Brittany's eyes darken, and she feels a sudden need to get home. Or at least as far as the parking lot where she has a perfectly good car with a fairly large backseat.

Brittany apparently has other ideas though, as she's now sliding onto Santana's lap, straddling her, arms around her neck. "And you always have looked good in a suit."

"Not here, Britt. We can't." She knows it's dangerous having Brittany so close right now. This building is full of security cameras, and while she isn't sure of their exact locations, she does not want to be be called into her boss's office on Monday morning and asked to explain what exactly she is doing in this video tape.

"We've never done it in a conference room before." Brittany's eyes dart around the room. "And we still haven't crossed your desk off the list either."

Before she can tell Brittany that sadly that's something that won't be happening, someone clears their throat behind them. Brittany instantly turns a deep shade of red, and scrambles off her. She jumps to her feet as well, quickly turning around.

"Working late, Lopez?" Of all the people who could still have been in the building, it's just her luck that it would be Nathan Graham. So much for wanting to impress him with her work performance.

Brittany grabs her purse and makes a bolt for the door. "I should go." She stops long enough to shoot her an apologetic look, then practically flees down the corridor.

"Friend of yours?"

"Not at this particular moment she's not." She glares at Brittany's retreating form. She's the one that starts this whole thing then abandons her to deal with the fallout? She definitely owes her for this.

"Women, they get you in trouble then they run for the hills. That's a familiar scenario." She would have expected him to be angry, but he just looks amused at the situation. He strolls over to the far end of the table, looking over what she'd been working on. "You've done a good job with this, really good."

She takes a breath she didn't even know she'd been holding. Maybe he isn't going to fire her after all

"But seriously, it's Friday night and you're still here when you have a woman who looks like that waiting for you at home? That's the kind of thing that makes me question your sanity a little."

He must notice she hasn't moved since he walked in. "Relax. I've caught plenty of Junior Associates in much more compromising positions over the years. This isn't even a blip on my radar. You might be surprised to know that I do remember what it's like to be young and in love. When you're in a new relationship and just can't keep your hands off each other, I say make the most of it. That stage never lasts."

People have been telling her that since high school, but she still wants Brittany as much now as she did back then, maybe more, and she can't imagine that ever changing.

"So how long have you been seeing Blondie?"

She hates when people ask her that question. She and Brittany never have been able to decide on what date they officially got together. "Brittany. Her name's Brittany. And must be eight years now." It feels like longer, and it's times like this that she knows Brittany is right when she always insists that they've been together forever.

"Eight years? Seriously?" He's giving her an incredulous look. "And not only does she not get pissed at you for working late, but she actually brings you food? Wow."

"Yeah." She finds she can't stop herself from smiling. "I'm kinda the luckiest woman on the planet."

"I'm starting to see that. Can I give you some advice though?"

"Don't ever have sex in the conference room?"

He laughs. "Yeah, but I think you already figured that one out for yourself. I've screwed up a lot of relationships, with a lot of women. And at least half of the time it was because I put my career before them. You're ambitious, that much is obvious, but you need to find a balance. Don't get me wrong, I respect people who are willing to put in the hours, but I respect even more those that know where to draw the line, that know when it's necessary to be here, and when they're just staying at the office late for the sake of it or to suck up to the Senior Partners."

"Is that a hint that I should go home?"

"Your prep work has been flawless. We really can't be any more ready for this trial, so yes, go home, spend the weekend with your girl, and I'll see you here bright and early Monday morning." He stands and starts to walk towards the door, but then stops and turns back to her. "Listen, Tom McCoy is hosting one of his infamous parties next week."

Thomas McCoy is another Senior Partner in the firm, or at least his name is over the door, nobody she's spoken to has ever seen him, and the office rumor-mill insists that he died years ago, the firm keeping it a secret so they could continue to use his name.

"They're an important opportunity to impress clients, make connections. I want you to come, you and Brittany."

She can only nod. She knows that getting an invitation to a social event like this must mean she's doing something right.

"Okay, now go, get out of here. Although I suggest you might want to tidy up the place before you do." He offers her a small smile and then is gone.

Once she's returned the room to the state that she found it in, she grabs her things and heads down to the parking lot. When she gets to her car, she finds Brittany sitting on the hood, waiting for her. She can tell she's been crying and she looks about ready to start again.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. That guy was your boss, wasn't he? And I screwed everything up, got you in trouble and then just ran out on you. What kind of girlfriend does that? I just..."

Santana closes the distance between them, and pulls her in for a kiss, cutting off whatever she'd been about to say. Brittany is still for a moment, but when she runs her tongue along her bottom lip, she feels her respond, kissing her back slow and deep.

When they break apart, Santana just pulls her into a hug. "I love you. And if I ever start taking you for granted, or neglecting you in any way, you need to tell me. Because sometimes I can be really dense and not notice I'm doing these things, and I need you to point that kind of stuff out to me, to make sure I don't screw this up. Because I can't screw this up, Britt, I just can't."

Brittany looks a little shocked that she isn't mad at her for abandoning her. "San, what exactly happened in there?"

"Nothing. He just pointed out how incredibly lucky I am to have you, and told me that I need to go home and thank you for that."

"Really?"

"Pretty much, yeah. Now any suggestions on just how I can thank you?"

Brittany pulling her in for another kiss pretty much answers that question for her.

* * *

><p>"You're nervous."<p>

Of course Santana's nervous. Nathan Graham has made it very clear that this little soiree of the firm's is a very big deal. So yeah, she's feeling more than a little pressure to make a good impression tonight. Her natural reaction to someone stating the obvious like that is to deliver a sarcastic reply, but it's Brittany so she holds back. She slowly finishes applying her lipstick, keeping her eyes on her own reflection in their bedroom mirror. "And you're..." The second her gaze falls on her girlfriend's reflection though, the words die in her throat. She spins around, her eyes running the length of Brittany's body. "Stunning." Now she's the one that's stating the obvious. The dress is that shade of royal blue that always somehow manages to make Brittany's eyes sparkle even more than usual. It also very clearly fits in all the right places, and Santana's suddenly not sure if they're going to even make it out the front door. She bites down on her bottom lip slightly, gripping the edge of dressing room table with both hands in an attempt to stop her body from walking across the room and just kissing Brittany and never stopping.

"Do you like it?" Brittany twirls on the spot and Santana can only nod in appreciation.

"Blue is definitely your color." Santana curses herself for doing it again, but when Brittany's standing there looking just that good, well, she finds it difficult to even think, let alone be her usual witty conversationalist.

Brittany is slowly drifting over to her, though Santana doesn't think it's something she's doing consciously, and she knows she won't be able to keep from having to touch her for much longer. "The dress cost a little more than I'd have liked but I know how much tonight means to you and..."

As soon as she's within reach, Santana cuts her off by crashing her lips against hers.

No-one will notice if they're a little late, right?

* * *

><p>"It's huge."<p>

"It's fucking huge."

They must have been sat in the car for at least five minutes, just gaping at the size of the house. No, actually, Santana's pretty sure it would be classed as a mansion.

"Did you know it was so huge?"

"Nope." She hadn't really given it much thought to be honest.

"They have valets." There's wonder in Brittany's voice and Santana follows her gaze over to where sure enough guys in red waistcoats are parking people's vehicles for them.

One of them is heading towards them and she's suddenly very conscious of the fact that her car is completely out of place amongst all the Mercedes and various sports cars that all the other guests seem to be driving. "We should have got a cab."

Brittany reaches across and places a hand on her knee, squeezing gently. "It'll be fine."

She waits for the snide comment from the valet when he opens her door for her, but it never comes. "Evening, Ma'am." He waits for her to climb out, then jogs over to the passenger door to let Brittany out. He's then sliding into the driver's seat and pulling away.

Santana glares after him. "He called me Ma'am."

"Maybe that's something you'll have to get used to. You're not as young as you used to be, San." When she turns her scowl onto Brittany, she just laughs and takes hold of her hand, tugging her towards the entrance. "Come on."

The place is even more impressive from the inside. She suddenly doesn't think mansion even does it justice. The front door leads onto a huge foyer. A grand staircase leads to the upper level, or levels she suspects. The rooms leading off the foyer seem to all be full of people. It reminds Santana of the benefits her parents used to drag her to when she was a child. God, she hated those things.

Brittany's grip on her hand seems to tighten, and she leans in to whisper in her ear. "Do you think we're like the only people here who aren't millionaires?"

Looking around at the rest of the guests, it's certainly a possibility.

"Is he a butler?" Brittany nods towards where an elderly man in a three piece suit is taking people's jackets as they enter.

"No idea." If she's honest, she isn't even sure what makes someone a butler. Something in the back of her mind tells her they need to be British, but she's sure that can't be right. Unfortunately they didn't bring coats with them so they don't get the chance to find out if he has an English accent, something Brittany seems to be a little disappointed about.

She's at a loss over where they're supposed to go, but she's saved by someone calling her name. She spots Nathan Graham making his way through the crowd towards them. "Hey, you made it."

"Well you made it sound like attendance wasn't optional."

"It isn't." He smiles, then turns to Brittany. "Hi. I don't believe we were properly introduced last time we met. Nathan Graham." He holds out a hand to her.

Brittany shakes his hand. "Hi."

"You both look amazing. Now let's get the two of you a drink, then there's some people I want to introduce you to."

* * *

><p>The evening is going well. At least Santana thinks it's going well. So what if she can't remember the names of half the people that Nathan has introduced her to, and if maybe she has found herself out of her depth in more than a couple of conversations she's been included in, but she thinks she's doing okay. Brittany on the other hand, Brittany has been an instant hit. Everybody loves Brittany, and she hasn't even been near the dance floor yet, though Santana has noticed her look longingly at it more than once, noticed the way her feet keep moving, tapping out a rhythm to the music.<p>

Eventually Nathan excuses himself from them, telling them to enjoy the party. She guesses he must have run out of people for her to meet, or maybe it's the red-head he's suddenly making a beeline for that has caught his attention.

The orchestra begins to play a tango, and Brittany's eyes find hers instantly.

She knows she doesn't even have to ask, but she does anyway. "Would you like to dance?"

Brittany just grabs her arm and pulls her towards the dance floor.

* * *

><p>As usual she runs out of energy long before Brittany does. She just hasn't the stamina to keep up these days. She must be growing soft. Maybe she needs to start going to the gym more often, or take up some sort of sport. She seems to think that lawyers play racquetball, though she isn't a hundred percent sure on that. She makes a point to ask Nathan the next time she sees him.<p>

Brittany however seems to have found a kindred spirit, a young guy whose boyfriend had looked ready to collapse around the same time Santana had. Now the two of them are stood on the sidelines while their partners dance what she thinks is a Samba.

She vaguely recognizes the boyfriend from the firm, he's maybe a third year associate, maybe fourth. He just rolls his eyes, gives her a knowing look. "Dancers, huh?" He disappears into the crowd, leaving her to watch Brittany. It's been far too long since she's had the chance to watch her dance like this, and she's happy to make the most of it. Ballroom dancing has never been Brittany's favorite, her girl much prefers more street based dances, but the way she glides across the floor right now, you'd never know.

"I don't think we've met." She turns to find herself facing an old, tall, silver haired man. "Thomas McCoy."

Well, so much for the theory that Thomas McCoy is dead. "Santana Lopez." She somehow manages to shake his hand, determined not to make a fool of herself in front of him. "I'm a junior associate at your firm."

"And you've already been invited into the inner circle?" He gestures around the room. "And which of my fellow partners do we have to thank for that?"

"Nathan Graham asked me to come, Sir."

"Shoulda known. Nate always did have an eye for talent."

She's not quite sure how to take that, so she says nothing. Her eyes are still on Brittany, and he must notice as he turns to watch her as well. "Your wife is one hell of a dancer."

"She certainly is, but she isn't my wife though."

"I'm surprised by that. You act like a married couple, so in tune with each other. You two remind me of me and my late wife."

"I'm sorry." She's not sure why she's apologizing, it just feels like something you do when someone tells you their wife is dead.

"Don't be. We had fifty years together, not all of them happy, but all of them worth it."

She doesn't like this, talking about death. If she lets herself think for even one minute about what she'd do if she ever lost Brittany, well she finds herself falling into a catatonic state.

"How long have you two been together?"

They've been asked this question a lot tonight, and the answer is usually followed with someone saying how cute they are or by asking why they aren't married if they've been together so long. For some reason it's that question that is really starting to bother her, though she isn't quite sure why. "Eight years."

"High school sweethearts?"

She nods, and waits for it.

"I hope you don't mind me asking, but why haven't you married her?"

All the other times that question has been asked tonight, she's left Brittany to answer it, who has always said they don't need a piece of paper. Something in her eyes though tells Santana that she doesn't really believe that. Now she has to answer for herself, she's not sure what to say. "It's just never been the right time."

That excuse is starting to wear thin, even to her. She should know by now that there will never be the perfect time, it doesn't exist, but yet she still waits.

"Can I give you some advice, Ms Lopez? Life is much too short to put things on hold forever. Don't learn that the hard way." He offers her a sad smile and then walks away from her, continuing working his way round the room.

Her eyes meet Brittany's and the blonde smiles at her. She feels faint all of a sudden and heads out onto the patio to get some fresh air. It's turned colder now, so she finds she's the only one outside. She walks over to the railing and leans against it. McCoy's words are getting to her. They've conjured images in her head of Brittany being injured, fighting for her life, and her being helpless to do anything about it. And the thought that this could all happen before she ever has the chance to call Brittany her wife, well that doesn't sit well with her.

She realizes that Nathan must have followed her out, as he's suddenly standing beside her. "Cigarette?" He holds out the packet to her, and she reaches for one, but then stops, her eyes drawn back towards the dance floor where Brittany and her new friend seem to have moved onto a Paso Doble, and she thinks better of it. "No, thank you."

He takes one himself, then places the carton down on the railing. "I told you to mingle. Not spend the evening dancing with your girlfriend."

The light teasing tone to his voice is the only thing that keeps her from biting his head off. "You've seen her dance. Can you blame me?"

"I have and I can't." He lights his cigarette and takes a long slow drag. "You sure you don't want one?"

She just shakes her head.

"I noticed McCoy talking to you. What was that all about?" She doesn't miss the suspicion in his voice, and she wonders what the story is with those two.

"He was asking about Britt, that's all. He wanted to know why we're not married. Why does everybody keep asking that?"

"These people are very big on traditional values. You're in love, you get married, you have kids. They don't understand anything else."

"So what, you're saying I have to marry her just to get everyone's approval? That only married people have a future at McCoy, Graham and Baker?"

"Oh please, if that was true, then I wouldn't be working there, would I? But it would soften your reputation. You can sometimes come across a little cold. And there's no denying you two are good together. Plus she's beautiful which doesn't hurt. All in all, she's good political currency."

People can say what they want about her, but once they start dragging Brittany into whatever this is, then, no, she won't stay quiet any longer. She rounds on him, satisfied when he takes a step back from her. "Now listen here, Alan Shore, if you think for one second that I'm going to marry that girl just because you and your creepy boss in there..."

"Hey, he's not my boss. We have equal seniority."

"Just because you two think it'd be good for my image? That I'd ever use her just to improve my reputation? That I'd say to her, hey Brittany, I want to marry you, but not because I love you and want to build a future with you, but because my boss thinks it'll help my career? Then you're either batshit crazy or you really don't know me at all."

He holds his hands up, moving away from her slightly. "Easy, I was only pointing out some of the benefits to having her as your wife. I didn't say they were reasons to propose to her."

Part of her wishes that they were, wishes she had some sort of sign that would convince her to finally do this.

"But for what it's worth, you should marry her, but not because of what it'd mean for you as a lawyer."

"Then why?"

"Because I've been married four times, and not once has any of them ever looked at me the way she looks at you."

She takes a moment to let that sink in, then just nods at him and leaves. As she walks back inside, Brittany intercepts her. "There you are. You okay?"

"Yeah."

Brittany's eyes narrow as her gaze drift through the patio doors to where Nathan is watching them. "Did he do something? Or try something? Or..."

"No. God, no."

"You'd tell me, right, if he did?"

"Yeah, course."

Brittany moves to stand between her and Nathan, giving him what for Brittany is quite an impressive death glare seeing as she hasn't had the practice that Santana has at perfecting that look. "I don't like him. He's creepy."

"He's alright."

Brittany doesn't look convinced so she leans up and presses her lips to hers, for once finding she doesn't care who's staring at them. She soon pulls away and tugs her towards the dance floor. "Come on, I think I've got some dancing left in me yet."

* * *

><p>It's late when they get home. Far later than they had planned. . She had agreed to be the designated driver because she didn't want to risk becoming the weepy hysterical drunk girl in front of her co-workers, but she had only ended up regretting that. Being able to drink might have made the evening bearable. She knows she would never have gotten through it without starting a fight if it hadn't been for Brittany. It's only once they're back home and she realises that she doesn't have to carry Brittany up the stairs, that it hits her that Brittany hasn't been drinking either.<p>

"Hey, you're sober."

Brittany's been humming some tune under her breath since they left the party. Now she dances across to her, standing behind her, placing her hands on Santana's hips and starts to sway her to the music that is obviously playing in her head.

"Didn't want to take the chance I'd end up stripping off in front of everyone. Figured I'd save that show just for you." Brittany places a kiss on her neck. She then takes hold of her hand and turns her into a spin, then her hands are around her waist and pulling her close. She still keeps them moving across the living room, carefully managing to dodge around the sofa and the coffee table without even looking.

Santana can't help shaking her head. "There's no music, B."

"I always hear music when I'm with you. You know that."

Maybe Brittany has been drinking after all "Babe, I'm sorry but I don't think my feet are going to take much more dancing tonight."

Brittany sighs but lets her go.

Santana lets herself collapse down onto the sofa, then quickly removes her shoes. "Stupid fucking high heeled shoes. What was I thinking?" She throws one across the room, it landing harmlessly a few feet away. The second one soon follows it.

"That you looked really hot in them?" Brittany flops down beside her, swinging her legs up onto the coffee table. She pats her thighs and Santana takes the hint and lifts her feet to rest them on her lap, moaning as Brittany starts massaging one of them.

"That could have been it." She twists so she can reach out and flick at Brittany's left foot. "That's why you wore flats, isn't it? You were totally planning on dancing me off my feet."

"No. That's not the reason."

She lies back, resting her hands behind her head, and allowing her eyes to fall closed. "Then what was?" When she doesn't get an answer, she half opens one eye, and with her free foot pokes gently at Brittany's side. "Britt? Then why?"

Brittany drops her left foot and grabs for the other before she can prod her with it again. "It's stupid."

"Tell me." She's aware she's whining, but hey, she's tired so she figures she's entitled to whine a little.

Brittany must think so too as she just sighs. "You know that I totally dig the height difference between us, I do. Except sometimes I don't. Sometimes I like feeling like I'm your equal, not some giant freak towering over you."

Santana opens both eyes now and sits up. "What?"

"Told you it was stupid."

"Giant freak? Brittany, you're aren't that much taller than me."

Brittany just shrugs.

"And anyway, I really like the height difference. I like that you're taller than me, that you're stronger than me. It comes in really useful for when you've got me pinned against a wall, that you can hold me up with only one arm while..."

She doesn't get to finish that sentence before Brittany's lips are on hers.

* * *

><p>Later, when Brittany's brushing her teeth, Santana finds herself leaning in the bathroom doorway, watching her. "I want to thank you."<p>

Brittany meets her gaze in the mirror, and speaks around her toothbrush. "For what?"

"For being so amazing tonight. I know these parties suck, but you put up with it all and remained totally awesome all evening. So thank you."

Brittany rinses her mouth, and then drops the toothbrush back into the holder. "Really? You do know I was terrified like all night long? I was so afraid that I was going to let you down, show you up somehow."

"Seriously? Like that could ever happen. Brittany, every single person there loved you. How could they not? You're like a goddess or something." She moves to stand behind Brittany, sliding her arms around her waist, her fingertips gazing against the bare skin of her hipbones under the band of the sweatpants. "And because of how amazing you are, I'm a better person when I'm around you. You always make me want to be the best version of myself that I can, so that I never disappoint you again." She pauses to take a breath. "So thank you. For tonight, and for every single day that you put up with me. And I promise that I'm going to try my hardest to make sure you never regret it."

"Santana, there's nothing you could do that would ever make me regret being with you. I love you." Brittany says those three words like they explain everything, and in a way they do.

Once Brittany has finally fallen asleep, Santana slips out of bed and makes her way down the hallway to the spare bedroom. She's had a safe fitted in there. A safe that she hasn't even told Brittany exists, let alone told her the combination. She opens it, searching around inside until she finds what she's looking for. Her fingers close around velvet and she pulls out the blue box. She's kept it all these years. She's been sneaking in here more and more lately to sit and stare at it, only to then lock it back away. In a way it makes a nice change that she has people telling her to marry Brittany, but oddly that has only made her not want to propose. Stupid reverse psychology.

She still believes that she'll get there eventually, but she's done doing things for her image. She snaps the box closed and returns it to the safe. And for that day when she is ready to ask her to marry her, then hey, at least she still has that damn ring.


	5. Chapter 5

Santana really wishes she was anywhere else right now than in a seedy downtown bar with Noah Puckerman. He's currently in the middle of his fourth story about a recent conquest, or at least she thinks he is. She hasn't really been listening to a word he's been saying, and apparently he's noticed. "What is with you tonight? You're acting like you don't even want to be here."

"That's because I _don't _want to be here."

He scowls at her. "Thanks, you really know how to make a guy feel wanted."

She leaves her drink untouched. She's already had two beers and lost count of the number of shots she's had since she met him here tonight, and she has no intention of spending tomorrow with a hangover. Too much is riding on it for that. "Hey, I agreed to meet you for a drink. I don't remember promising to be nice to you." She knows for a fact that she didn't. In fact he's lucky she's even here. If Brittany hadn't had to work late tonight then she wouldn't have been.

"You know you're the only person that hasn't let me crash on their sofa, that has made me pay for a hotel room." He knocks back another drink. "Everyone else was only too happy to open their doors to the Puckasaurus."

"Are you seriously still calling yourself that? Really?"

He just shrugs. "The only one, Lopez. Out of every single person that was ever in Glee club, the only one who won't even offer a floor to a man in need. Hope you feel good about that."

"I'm sorry, are you actually trying to guilt trip me into letting you into my home?" She shakes her head. "Have you met me?"

"Thought you might have softened a bit after all these years. Your better half would let me stay."

"She would, which is exactly why I'm not even letting you near her to ask." The truth is if he'd breezed into town on any other weekend, she probably would have let him stay with them, but as usual Noah Puckerman has the worst timing in the world.

"You gonna at least invite me over for dinner tomorrow?"

"Can't. I'm taking Britts out for dinner."

"So let me join you. I'll even let you pay."

"Oddly enough I don't much want you tagging along on this."

"Anyone ever told you, you're not much of a host?"

"Hey, you only called me six hours ago to say you were in town. It's not my fault I have plans."

"You think you'd blow them off for an old friend like me." He's sulking now, and okay, so maybe she feels a tiny bit guilty, but not enough to rethink this weekend.

"I'm going to ask Brittany to marry me." She's not sure why she tells him, maybe in the hope that it will get him to stop complaining, make him understand just why she doesn't have time to babysit him.

He stares at her, eyes widening. "Shit."

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just you guys have been together so long, I figured you weren't ever gonna have the balls to do it." He signals for the barman to bring them another round. "Well congratulations, I suppose."

"I haven't asked her yet."

He slides a shot over to her. "Yeah, but it's a done deal."

The way her stomach does flip flops every time she even thinks about proposing tells her otherwise. "You reckon?"

He raises his glass and waits for her to knock hers against it, before downing the contents. "Dude, when a girl sticks with you for as long as she's stuck with you, then she ain't gonna turn down the chance to be entitled to half of everything you own, is she?"

"Thanks, that's really comforting."

"Least as a lawyer, you'll be able to make sure you don't get screwed over on the pre-nup."

"Like I'd ever ask Britt to sign a pre-nup."

"You never know what will happen. Nothing wrong with a person wanting to protect their assets." He shrugs. "But then I've always been a why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free kind of guy." He downs another shot and she can't help thinking that at this rate she's going to end up having to carry him back to his hotel, something that she really isn't looking forward to. "But if marriage is what you want, then I'm happy for you. For both of you."

"Thanks." She blames the alcohol for her sudden desire to hug him, especially when he uses it as an opportunity to feel her ass.

She pulls back, punches him in the arm. "What the hell, Puckerman?"

"Sorry, couldn't resist. It was my last chance to cop a feel before you're officially off the market."

"I've been off the market for a long time. Especially where you're concerned."

"Yeah, I suppose you have." There's something in his eyes that she can't read. Regret, maybe. Or guilt, she isn't sure, and thinks she's probably better not knowing. "Listen, Santana..."

"Don't." She places a hand on his arm, shakes her head slightly. "I made my peace with my past a long time ago. We're good. So don't go raking up ancient history, okay?"

He looks like he still wants to say something, but then he just changes the subject. "So how you gonna do it?"

"What I wanted to do was fly her out to Hawaii, find some nice secluded spot with an awesome view, and no witnesses in case she turns me down, or if you know, we can't wait to have engagement sex." She'd liked her plan. It was simple, left little room for anything to go wrong. She'd made a mistake though, and that mistake had been to tell Quinn about her plan. "But Quinn says that's not good enough." She can't keep the bitterness out of her voice. "That if I'm doing this, I have to go all out, and it needs to be all fluffy and romantic and shit."

"You asked Quinn Fabray for advice on this?" He's looking at her like she's crazy, not the first time she's ever been on the receiving end of that look from him, it brings back memories of high school, of when she would flip out at him for reasons neither of them understood at the time. "And remind me, just how many successful relationships has Quinn ever been in? You'd have been better asking me."

"Puck, you're probably the only person I know that's less qualified than Quinn to comment on the subject."

"So what's she got you doing?"

"She made me a list." She pulls a crumpled sheet of paper out of her pocket and hands it over to him.

He raises an eyebrow at the fact that it's held together by cellotape, and has clearly been screwed up several times. "Looks like you took her meddling well." He starts to read it. "Number one. Wake her up with a good morning kiss and tell her you love her." He rolls his eyes, which was pretty much her reaction when she first read it. "Two, breakfast in bed. Three, make love to her like you mean it?" He frowns. "What does that even mean?"

Maybe she does need a few more shots. She knocks back at least three while Puck sniggers his way through the list. she should have known better than to show him that thing, but at least he finds it as ridiculous and cheesy as she does. Thankfully he's nearly at the end of it now. "Dinner at a five star restaurant, where you have to order champagne. Romantic walk in the moonlight. Then take her home where the house will have been set up with candles, rose petals, yada yada yada, where you will serenade her, then get down on one knee and propose." He turns the sheet over, as if expecting more. "So I know I'm a dude and my opinion doesn't count for much, but I think I liked your Hawaii idea better."

So does she, but Quinn had gone into full HBIC mode, and had kind of railroaded her into this instead. "Sun, sea, surf. Where's the bad, right?"

"You wearing a tiny bikini, one that shows..." He doesn't get any further as she punches his arm again. "Okay, okay. But do I at least get credit for knowing not to make those kinds of comments about Brittany?"

"No, that only means your nuts are safe. For now anyway."

He goes back to studying the list, but she doesn't miss the fact that one hand is now covering his groin just in case. "You know, I think you had the right idea when you tore this thing in half.. But luckily for you, Uncle Puck is here to fix this." He glances around the bar, smiling when he spots a guy in a suit standing a few feet away. "Hey dude, you got a pen I can borrow?" Luckily, or maybe unluckily, she isn't sure yet, he does and Puck turns to her with a look of triumph on his face.

"What are you doing?" She has a bad feeling about this.

He smooths out the paper on the bar. "Now let's see." Before she can react he starts crossing things off the list.

"What the fuck are you doing?" She tries to grab it off him, but he manages to twist out of her reach, one hand holding her at bay, while he continues putting lines through things.

"Careful, we wouldn't want to damage Quinn's precious list."

She lets out a huff, but gives up. It's not like he can make it any worse. Although she reconsiders that once he starts amending things rather than cross them off, and even more so when she reads his own additions to the list over his shoulder. She reaches out to point to one particular item. "Oh, come on. This is meant to be romantic, that's just gross."

"Listen, you do everything on Quinn's list, which I'm pretty sure there's no way in hell she actually wrote herself, and your girl is gonna think you're a total wuss. You're supposed to be making her want to marry you, not make her want to dump your sorry ass."

She'd said pretty much the same thing, but it hadn't gotten her anywhere. "But Quinn said..."

"Fuck Quinn. Who you gonna trust more when it comes to impressing the ladies? Her or me?"

She doesn't trust either of them. "It's too late to change my mind if I wanted to. Quinn's flying into town tomorrow morning to help set all this shit up. Once I take Britt out to dinner, she's gonna sneak into the house for the grand finale. I might be a bitch, but I can't tell her I hate her idea and I'm not doing it, not this late in the game anyway. Besides my previous attempts at doing this kinda went nowhere, so maybe it's a good thing she's taken charge."

Puck seems to have finished his alterations now and hands it back to her. She starts to read it over but only makes it as far as the fourth point. "Yeah, I'm not doing any of this. I'd rather stick to the original. Least that way I don't have to worry about Scary Quinn putting in an appearance. And I'm still taking her to Hawaii. We're just going Sunday night, after I've proposed."

Puck seems to think about that. "Okay, new idea. Everything on there is optional up until the dinner part, right? Quinn won't know if you follow her list or not."

To his credit, he does have a point there. "Go on."

"So I'm thinking you do whatever the hell you want until then. Follow the list, don't follow the list. Maybe try a couple of my suggestions, and take photographs so I can see how they worked out." Her death glare doesn't even phase him slightly. "Then I'll help Quinn set everything up, but in fact I sabotage everything without her noticing. I could like set your place on fire or something. That would kill the mood, right? Then you have your excuse to wait until you have Brittany on a beach somewhere to propose."

"Yeah, I think I'd prefer if you didn't burn my house to the ground."

"I said or something. I'm just thinking off the top of my head here, Lopez. And case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly sober."

To be fair, his idea isn't actually a bad one, leaving out the arson part anyway. If she has Puck help Quinn, at least she can be sure things won't get too over the top romantic. They should be able to balance each other out pretty well actually. "Okay, but I don't want you to stop her. I want to do this, Puck. I'm going to do this. And I'm going to do it tomorrow. I've waited far too long as it is. If I don't, there's no guarantee that I won't just chicken out again. But if I do it tomorrow, I've got you and Quinn to make sure I go through with it. So all I need from you is for you to stop Quinn from making me look too soft, and to kick my ass if I start to freak out."

"I can do that." He orders two more shots, lifting his glass and holding it out to hers. "We got this, Lopez. You can count on me to make sure this is one kickass proposal."

She really wishes she believed that.

* * *

><p>Judging by how the house is in complete darkness when she gets home, she guesses Brittany's in bed already. Santana leaves the lights off and just heads straight upstairs. She enters the room to find Brittany sprawled out across the bed, face down, fast asleep. She swears that she only lies like that so she has no choice but to wake her. She grabs an old t-shirt and goes to the bathroom to get ready, trying not to disturb Brittany until she has to.<p>

Sure enough the second she slips into the bed, trying gently to move her so she has room to slide in next to her, Brittany is stirring, rolling over to her side of the bed, then the minute Santana is under the covers, she rolls back, wrapping her arms around her, pulling her flush against her, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder. "Hey."

"Hey." Santana places her hands over Brittany's and relaxes back into her embrace.

"Does Puck still have the mohawk?"

She can't help laughing that that's the first question she has about how Puck is. "No, no mohawk."

"Good, cause I'm not sure he can pull that off at his age."

"Babe, he could never pull that off. Let's be honest, it always looked ridiculous."

Another kiss on her shoulder, followed by one on the side of her neck. "True. I really wish I hadn't had to work tonight. Sorry for leaving you alone with Puck."

"Don't worry bout it." She rolls over so she's face to face with Brittany, one hand finding the small of her back, searching out bare skin under her T-shirt. "You don't have to work tomorrow though, right?" She's been worrying about that, that by keeping all her plans a secret, there's nothing to stop Brittany from making plans of her own.

"Nope, I'll all yours." She leans forward just enough to press their lips together. "Tomorrow." Another kiss. "And Sunday. We have the whole weekend together." That's something that hasn't happened in a while.

"And next week?" Maybe she should have at least told her about Hawaii.

"Well, I have the week off. You sure you'll be able to stay away from the office for that long?"

As long as she can make it through the next two days and make it on that plane, then yeah, she has no problem with spending some time away from the place. "I can't see that being a problem."

Brittany looks like she doesn't quite believe her, but she smiles at her anyway. "So just how are we going to spend all this time together?" Something in Brittany's eyes tells her that her girl has a few ideas on that herself, something that's confirmed when Brittany shifts closer to her so she can start nuzzling her neck, and well she can't think of any reason to object if that's how Brittany wants to spend the time.

* * *

><p>She's woken by the persistent shaking of her shoulder. She tries to bury herself further into the pillows.<p>

"Santana?" Another push to her shoulder. "San?"

She grunts, but her brain still isn't functioning to give more of a response right now.

"San, your cellphone keeps ringing."

As her body finally starts to wake up, she can hear her ringtone, and is suddenly wondering why she didn't make a point of switching it off when she got home last night. "Let it."

"It could be important."

"What time is it?"

"Five am."

"It's probably just Puck needing bailing out of jail again. Well I'm not doing it this time."

She squeezes her eyes closed, but feels Brittany lean over her and knows she's searching the bedside table for the phone. "I dunno, it's rung a couple of times. Whoever it is they're not giving up."

She sighs, but does open her eyes. Brittany hands her the cell, and she glances down at the caller ID. Work. More specifically Keith Henderson, one of her fellow associates, one who really has no reason to be calling her, especially at this time of the morning. She sighs and accepts the call. "What?"

"Lopez, is that really how you answer your phone?"

"At five in the morning? And when it's you calling? When I'm supposed to be on vacation? Then yeah, it is." She glances over her shoulder to find that Brittany has rolled back onto her stomach and has pulled the pillow over her head. She climbs out of bed, and heads downstairs into living room. "I'm on vacation, Henderson. Vacation." She's pacing the room, trying to keep her voice calm and low in the hope that Brittany might just be able to fall back to sleep and that she will soon be able to join her. "So just what exactly is so important that it can't wait?"

"Derek Hartnell's been arrested."

"And? He gets arrested every other week."

"True, but not for first degree murder."

She stops pacing, trying to decide if she heard him correctly. "No, no, no, no. Are you fucking kidding me? What, all the fraud allegations, sexual harassment lawsuits and corruption charges weren't enough all of a sudden? He has to go and choose today of all days to commit homicide?"

"If it's any consolation, he claims he's innocent."

"Oddly enough, it isn't. I'm on vacation."

"Yeah, you said that already."

"But I don't think you get it. I have plans. Important plans that involve being out of town, and needing to spend today with my girlfriend." She rubs at her forehead, she can feel a tension headache about to hit. "And yet, here you are trying to get me to take on what is going to be the highest profile murder case the firm has ever had." She sinks down onto the sofa. "Did I do something to piss you off? Or did I make your life hell? Screw you over in some way that you feel the need to take revenge like this?"

"Lopez, is there anyone you work with that you haven't screwed over at some point? But I'm not that petty. Hartnell is saying he only wants Nathan or you defending him, and Nate isn't picking up his phone, so..."

"Well tough shit." She knew she should followed her instincts and not picked up. "The son of a bitch can rot in jail for all I care. Seriously? Murder? Who did he supposedly kill? No, actually, don't tell me, I don't even want to know."

"Oh, this is where it gets really good. He was found at some two bit motel room with not one, but two dead hookers."

She had to go and ask, didn't she? She could have hung up on Henderson minutes ago, just told him he'd have to keep calling Nathan, but no, she's still on the phone, her mind overrun with hundred of questions about the case, questions she can't resist asking. "He was found with the bodies, and yet he says he didn't do it? Oh this is going to be good."

"Does that mean you're coming down here? Or am I telling Hartnell he's going to have to find alternative counsel as you and Nate are too busy for him right now?"

She knows she's screwed here. Hartnell is one of the firm's biggest clients. His constant court appearances is one of their main sources of income and if Nate looses his business because of her, then she may as well start looking for a new job right now. She just knows Nate will call into question her loyalty to the firm, and things will snowball from there.

She's about to tell him she'll be there in thirty minutes, but her eyes fall on the photographs of her and Brittany on the fireplace, and she falters.

"Lopez?"

"Can you try Nate again? I really can't cancel my plans today."

She jumps when a hand gently rests on her shoulder, spinning around to find Brittany leaning against the back of the sofa. "Go."

"Keith, hold on." She places a hand over the receiver. "What?"

Brittany shrugs. "Whatever it is, it sounds important, so you should go."

"No. What I should do is tell them to go to hell because you're way more important to me than a stupid job."

"And I love you for that, but I really like this house and seeing as you pay more than half the rent, I'd kinda like you not to get fired so we can carry on living here. So go. Do your thing." She leans forward and presses a kiss to her cheek. "Besides it's not like we had anything major planned, right?"

No, nothing major. Just four weeks of intricate planning and sneaking around to arrange everything. Having to fly Quinn into town to help pull this whole thing off. Living with those butterflies in her stomach for the last week, the ones that even now still make her feel like she has to throw up. Yeah, nothing major at all.

"I made us dinner reservations. At Chez Lorenzo."

Brittany's eyes widen, and her jaw drops open. It takes her a moment to recover. "San, you shouldn't have. That place is far too expensive. And don't you have to book like six months in advance?"

"Eight." Santana shrugs. "I just wanted to take you somewhere nice."

Brittany frowns. "I haven't forgot some important date, have I? An anniversary or something?"

"No, Britt."

"And there's nothing that you're feeling guilty about that you're trying to make up for?"

"God, did you really just ask me that?" Brittany's tone had been light, teasing, but she can feel her defences kicking in, feel herself getting annoyed that Brittany thinks she has to have an ulterior motive for taking her out for dinner, which okay she has, but it isn't what she thinks. "Can't I just want to take my girl out to a nice restaurant for a change?"

Brittany's frown deepens, and she studies her, as if trying to work out why she's suddenly so on edge. She finds she can't hold her gaze and looks away. Only then does she realise Henderson is still on the line, waiting for her answer. When she looks back up at Brittany her gaze has softened and she reaches out to stroke Santana's cheek. "Okay then, so how about this? You go be Super Lawyer, do what you need to do, and be home in time for dinner? Think you're up to the challenge?"

Okay so it would mean cutting out the making Brittany breakfast in bed part of the plan, and the whole taking Brittany in the shower part, okay so maybe not all Puck's additions had been bad ideas, but hey, there's always tomorrow morning for that. And maybe it might be a good idea to not spend the whole day together as there's then less chance that she'd end up blurting out her proposal after a couple of hours, instead of sticking to the plan. And then Quinn would just get mad at her, for ruining the whole thing.

She leans up to quickly kiss Brittany and then lifts the phone to her ear. "Henderson, which precinct are you at?"

* * *

><p>She's regretting her decision already. Somehow she'd managed to forget just how much Derek Hartnell gives her the creeps. Her skin has been crawling ever since she was left alone in the interrogation room with him.<p>

He's lying to her, she knows he's lying to her. What she doesn't know is how to get him to tell her the truth. She's tried playing the standard 'I can't help you if I don't have all the details' card, but that has gotten her nowhere. It never does with Hartnell. "So you're honestly telling me you don't know how the women ended up in your motel room?" She drops her pen onto the table, and rests her head in her hands.

"No, I'll telling you I don't know how I ended up in _their _motel room." He offers her a tight smile, a slight shrug. "I may have had a little too much to drink last night."

"Only alcohol? No drugs this time?"

Another shrug.

She can't help wonder just why he asked for her if he's only going to play games. Whilst he doesn't seem in any hurry to escape police custody, she has far better things to be doing than sitting here with him. "So you really want to tell the cops that you don't remember a single thing? That's it? That's your entire defence strategy?"

"I'm just telling you the truth. I pay you to come up with the defence strategy."

He has a point, and he does pay them well. It's just up until now that hasn't involved trying to help him get away with murder. "Well I don't think amnesia is going to cut it this time. It's one thing to say, hey officer, I honestly can't recall just how that two million dollars ended up in my account. But saying, hey officer, I honestly can't recall how two dead prostitutes ended up in my bed? Yeah, that ain't going to go down so well."

He seems to consider that for a moment. "You think temporary insanity would be the better way to go?"

She's saved from having to answer that by a knock on the door, as Nate finally decides to put in an appearance, all winning smile and the same suit he was wearing yesterday. "Well good morning, Mr Hartnell. We really need to stop meeting in these circumstances."

"I do seem to have had a run of bad luck lately."

"That you do." He turns and nods at Santana. "Derek, you don't mind if I borrow my colleague for a sec, do you?" He doesn't wait for an answer, just leaves the room, giving Santana no choice but to follow him.

Once they're out in the corridor, he leads her away away from the policeman guarding the door. Nate glances at his watch. "This has to be a new record. You take vacation time, and don't even manage to spend twelve hours away from work."

"Yeah, well, somebody wasn't answering his phone so I kinda had no choice, did I?"

"Who called you?"

"Does it matter?"

"Well yeah, so I know who to fire for dragging you down here. I wouldn't want to get rid of the wrong person. That would just be embarrassing."

She waves him off. "I don't think our friend Mr Hartnell gave them much choice. Seems he just really enjoys my company."

"Yeah, well, he's going to have to settle for me on this one. What time's your flight?"

"Not until tomorrow night." She wonders if telling him that means she's doomed to be stuck here for the rest of the day. "But there's something I need to do first."

She thinks he's going to ask her what that is, but instead he just nods. "Then you'd better catch me up on our case, then you can get the hell outta here."

"Not much to say. He has amnesia."

"Again?" Nate sighs.

She can only shrug. It is getting kind of old.

He glances around the corridor, making sure they can't be overheard. "Do you think he did it?" She does, she's sure of it, and her silence tells him as much. "Great. Now I kinda wish I wasn't such a gentleman and hadn't come down here to rescue you."

"Well I'm glad you did. The guy has always freaked me out, but now?" She can't help the shiver that runs through her body. "They found him covered in blood, standing over their bodies, yet he's so calm and cold about it, like it's no big deal."

She's never seen Nate look unsettled before, but he looks as uncomfortable with this case as she is. "Listen, I hate to ask, and feel free to say no, but I could really do with your help on this."

She knew he was going to say that. "I'm taking Brittany to dinner at six."

"That's no problem. All I'm asking for is a couple of hours. Sit in while the detectives question him, and take point. As unsettling as it may be, Hartnell likes you, more than he likes me."

"Thanks so much for pointing that out, but what's the real reason you want me in there?"

"Because I think it'd help having a woman defending him. And knowing Hartnell like I do, I'm gonna make a wild guess here and assume that the victims weren't white."

"Hispanic." She'd been trying really hard not to focus on that fact. "God, you can be a real dick at times, you know that? Not only do you want me on this case because I'm a woman, but now you wanna play the race card as well?"

"I think we're going to need to use every trick in the book to win this one."

"You say that like it's a good thing if he gets away with it."

"Well it is. It's our job to defend our client, Santana, you know that."

She does, and most of the time she has no problem with it. She had no problem with it last month when she got Derek Hartnell off on charges of drug possession and driving whilst under the influence. Or three months before that when she saved him from serving jail time for embezzlement. No, most of the time she's perfectly fine, can accept the fact that's she just doing her job. But then sometimes, like today, she wishes she wasn't quite so good at it.

* * *

><p>A couple of hours had quickly turned into several and by the time, she leaves the police station, she doesn't even have time to go home and change. Instead she has to ring Brittany and arrange to meet her at the restaurant.<p>

She gets there with half an hour to spare, and finding Brittany hasn't arrived yet, quickly sets herself up at the bar. She sets up a tab and orders a shot, or two, just for dutch courage, or maybe to try to block any thoughts of Derek Hartnell out of her head.

She wants nothing more right now than to go home and dive in the shower. She feels dirty just from being within three feet of him. Her chest feels hollow, as if she's just sold her soul by being willing to defend a murderer, by being prepared to stand up in a court room and do her best to keep this creep on the streets, and for what? Just to get herself a fat paycheck?

She doesn't want to be thinking of him, doesn't want the images from those crime scene photos in her head, though she thinks they may be haunting her dreams for a while. She wants to only think about Brittany, about making the most of the rest of the day, of getting back to the plan.

Knowing that Brittany would have had to leave the house by now, she takes the opportunity to call Quinn. It takes forever but she eventually answers. "Do not tell me you're calling to back out. Because I've spent far too much time with Puck today for it all to have been for nothing."

"Sorry, Fabray, guess I forgot that this was all about you." She signals the barman to bring her another shot. "And besides, I thought you'd have appreciated the help."

"Help from Puck? Because that's always worked out so well for me in the past."

She downs the shot, and is about to ask for another, when she gets a better idea. "Actually, it might be easier if you just leave the bottle." He gives her a wary look, but does so, wandering back off down the bar to serve other customers.

"Who are you talking to?"

"The bartender."

"Are you getting drunk?" She can hear the disapproval in Quinn's voice.

"Not yet, but give me an hour."

"You can't get drunk."

She pours herself another shot. "Why not?"

"Because proposing while smashed out of your head was not part of the plan."

"Screw the plan." She knocks back the contents of the glass, and then refills it.

"No, no screwing the plan, Santana. You're worked too hard on this, I've worked too hard on this for you to go off book here, okay? So you're going to stick to the plan, or..."

"Or what?"

"Or...or I'm going to let Puck loose in your bedroom. I'm sure he'll find some really interesting things in your drawers, or under the bed. Hidden at the back of the wardrobe perhaps?"

She had been about to empty her glass again, but now she slowly places it back on the bar. "You wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't I? Tell me, just how kinky is your sex life these days?"

"Quinn, I swear if you..."

"All you have to do is stop drinking right now and..." She can hear Puck saying something in the background. "Puck, where are you going? Get back here, you pervert."

"Quinn?"

"I'll call you back. Don't worry, I'll take care of everything here, you just stick to the plan."

With that Quinn hangs up, leaving her staring helplessly at her cellphone. She should never have let either of them be involved in this, but it's too late to do anything about it now.

She decides to settle for another couple of shots, just to take the edge off, but is still sober when Brittany arrives twenty minutes later. "Hey."

"Just how long have you been here?" Brittany's frowning at the empty glasses and bottles lined up on the bar, at least she thinks she's frowning, she can't quite tell as she can't seem to lift her gaze any higher than Brittany's chest right now. She's sure her jaw has literally dropped, and yeah, she's well aware that she might just be leering a little bit. That has to be a new dress. She'd have remembered if she'd ever seen Brittany in it before now. "Fuck, Britt. You look...wow."

"Yeah, I know. I look hot."

She finally manages to look at her face, reaching out to take both of her hands in hers. "Beautiful. You look beautiful." She glances down at her own outfit, her usual work clothes of black slacks and button down shirt that she'd hastily thrown on before rushing out the door this morning. "I'm suddenly feeling a little under-dressed."

Brittany just shakes her head. "Honey, you could wear a sack and still look amazing, and you know it." Brittany slides onto the bar stool next to her. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

Brittany has her hands pressed together and is slowly twisting her rings around her fingers, a nervous habit of hers. "Is it work?" There's worry in her eyes, but also something else she can't quite make out.

She doesn't want to go into it, it wouldn't exactly help set a romantic mood, so she just shakes her head. "It's nothing."

"We don't have to do this tonight if you don't want." Brittany drops her gaze, staring at the bar instead, as if she's not sure if she really wants to hear her answer.

"What?"

Brittany shrugs, still not looking at her. "The whole fancy restaurant thing. We could just go home, order takeout and snuggle on the sofa. If that's what you want."

It isn't, but now she's left wondering if that's what Brittany wants. But then would she have taken the time to get dressed up like she has, to go out and buy a brand new dress if she didn't? "I don't want that." Well she kind of does, but later, they can do that later. She places her hand over Brittany's. "I want us to have dinner, order the most expensive things on the menu, drink tonnes of champagne and then I can take you home and..."

Brittany finally meets her gaze now. "And what?"

"And..." Ask her to spend the rest of her life with her. She swallows, suddenly really wanting an excuse to change the conversation. She really shouldn't have thought that, not with the way the universe has been treating her so far today, as as soon as she does, the room is plunged into darkness.

People are starting to panic already, and the word blackout is being thrown around. She manages to get her cellphone out of her pocket and lights up the screen, illuminating them in a pale blue glow. Brittany has slid off the stool and moved closer, a slight hint of fear in her eyes. "You okay?" She snakes an arm around her waist and pulls her to her.

"Yeah, sure."

Soon most of the room are using their cells to provide some light, and the bar staff are busy setting up candles. The bartender from earlier stops in front of them and places a candle on the bar, lighting it.

"What's going on?"

"Looks like a power cut. The whole block has gone dark."

So much for a fancy meal.

Brittany leans in and whispers in her ear. "So now what?"

She doesn't have an answer for that. Some customers appear to be leaving, some staying when they see that the management is providing free drinks while they find out what is going on.

She's still trying to decide which option they're better taking, when suddenly Brittany is tugging on her hand, and pulling her towards the exit. "Come on, let's get out of here."

Once they're outside, she can see that it seems to be more than just the block that has no power, it looks more like the whole neighborhood. Alarms are going off all around them. Horns are honking as the traffic lights all seem to be out.

Brittany laces her fingers with hers. "Do you think there'll be looting? On TV there's always looting when there's a blackout."

She doesn't think so, but she really doesn't want to stick around to find out. She glances around, taking in her surroundings, pointing to their right, where they can see the buildings still have power. "Come on then, let's head towards the lights."

* * *

><p>At least, there's one plus point to this blackout. It means that the moonlight walk part of Quinn's list is covered. They aren't getting any where fast though, as Brittany keeps stopping to point out random things, or to steal kisses, but it feels good, to just stroll along, Brittany's hand in hers. Even if the nearer they get to home, the more nervous she seems to be getting. She's sure Brittany must be able to feel her palm sweating, but if she does, then she doesn't say anything about it.<p>

She's feeling a little faint now as well, but that could just be because she hasn't really eaten anything today. She stumbles slightly, but Brittany's arms are suddenly around her, stopping her from falling.

Brittany lifts her chin so she can study her face. "You need feeding."

"I'm fine." She doesn't think she could keep anything down, and she really doesn't want to throw up at any point tonight. She's sure that wasn't on Quinn's list. Though it may have been on Puck's now that she thinks about it.

"Well I'm starving so come on." Brittany keeps an arm around her waist and guides her across the street. "I haven't eaten all day as I wanted to make sure I had room for the very expensive meal my girlfriend was treating me to."

She knows she's only teasing, but she can't help feeling guilty. That the powercut was karma, her punishment for trying to put a murderer back on the streets. She doesn't realise that Brittany has stopped until she's opening the door to a diner and gently pushing her inside.

Brittany sits her down in one of the booths and then slides in opposite her.

They don't have to wait long until a waitress wanders over to them. "What can I get you ladies?"

She's only half listening as Brittany orders, but it sounds like she's getting a feast. When the waitress turns to her, she just shakes her head. "Just coffee for me, thanks."

Brittany frowns at her. "She'll have a cheeseburger and fries." The waitress just nods, and leaves them to it.

"I said I don't want anything." Just the thought of food makes her stomach churn.

"We've been through this, Santana. I'm not going to let you make yourself ill by not eating." There's a slight hint of irritation in her voice.

"So instead you're going to force feed me food that's likely to cause a heart attack in a few years time? Or worse, make me fat."

Brittany shrugs. "You could stand to gain a couple of pounds."

"Shut up." She slumps back against her seat and tries to glare at her, but the way Brittany's smiling at her, means she isn't very successful.

"I'm just saying that no matter how fat you get, I'd still find you sexy as hell and still wanna do you." She reaches across the table and places a hand on top of hers, her expression serious now. "I'm just checking that you know that. I love you, Santana, not what you look like."

The way that Brittany's looking at her right now, only makes her more determined to go through with proposing this time, eroding any last doubts that she might have had. She brings Brittany's hand to her lips and kisses her knuckles. "How did I ever get so lucky?"

"Because you're like the bestest, most awesome person on the planet. It's like karma or something. Good things happen to good people."

She freezes and lets go of Brittany's hand. "Except I'm not, am I?"

"Not what?"

"A good person."

Brittany's looking at her like she's finally gone insane on her. "Of course you are. What are you talking about?" Brittany reaches for her hand again, but she pulls away, wrapping her arms around herself instead.

"No, I'm not." She didn't want to talk about this, not tonight, but she can't ask her to spend the rest of her life with her, without sharing this weight on her shoulders. "It's my fault."

She can tell Brittany hasn't any idea what she's talking about, but she doesn't interrupt her, just waits for her to explain.

"The client, the one from this morning? I defended him last month. I got him off, kept him on the streets. And now, two women are dead. Because of me. If the bastard had been locked up, then they'd still be alive." She only notices now that she's starting crying at some point, and she frantically wipes at her eyes.

"Santana, it's not...you can't..." Brittany looks lost, and she knows she's trying to find some comforting words she can offer her, but they both know there are none. Instead she stands up, and moves round to her side of the booth, sliding in next to her. She tries to pull her into her arms, but Santana fights her. She doesn't deserve comfort, not after what she's done.

Brittany doesn't let her push her away though, and soon she finds herself pressed into her side, her head buried in her neck. "You're a good person." She feels Brittany kiss the top of her head. "You're a good person, because if you weren't, then you wouldn't care like you do. You wouldn't be breaking into pieces in a diner over this. You're a good person."

"Even if I'm still willing to defend him?"

"Especially because you're still willing to defend him, because you're doing your job even though it's tearing you apart inside. And you're like the strongest person I know, so I know you can handle this, but please, please, remember that you've always got me for when you need to break apart, to hold you when you cry and then put you back together again. That's _my _job, and I like to think I'm pretty good at it."

And people think Brittany isn't good with words. It always seems to her that she always knows exactly what to say. She lifts her head up so she can press a soft kiss to Brittany's cheek. "I think you're pretty good at it too."

* * *

><p>After they've eaten, Brittany once more insists they walk home. Santana tries pointing out that it would take forever, but agrees to walking a few blocks, then they'll call a cab.<p>

Her cellphone rings and it's Quinn. She suddenly remembers that she was supposed to text her to let her know when they were heading home, and she's no doubt wondering just what's taking them so long.

She stops walking and gestures to her phone. "Sorry, I need to take this."

Brittany just nods, and Santana wanders a short distance away from her so she can't overhear anything she shouldn't. "Yeah, I know. Things kinda didn't go to plan, but we're on our way back now. Everything set there?"

"Santana." Quinn sounds nervous and that's never a good sign.

"What?"

"Don't freak out."

"Quinn, telling someone not to freak out pretty much only guarantees they're gonna be exactly that."

"It's just..."

"What?"

"Everything's under control now, really, but there may have been a small fire."

"What?" She's going to kill them, she's going to seriously kill them. And then Brittany is going to kill her, because what was she thinking letting Quinn and Puck loose in their house with candles?

"It's fine. There isn't a lot of damage. Though you might need to buy some new curtains. And redecorate one wall. But other than that, really, you wouldn't even be able to tell."

"What the hell did you do, Fabray?"

"It wasn't my fault. You're the one that asked Puck to help. Don't you dare blame me, for something he's done."

"He's done this on purpose, hasn't he?" He did tell her last night that he would burn her house down. She should have known then to not let him play any part in this. "You tell him he's a dead man when I get my hands on him."

"I think he already knows as he took off, leaving me to clean up the mess. He did stop long enough to put the fire out though, so that's something I guess."

Brittany has walked further down the street now and appears to be staring up into a tree.

"The universe is trying to screw me over, Quinn. First a client turns into a serial killer. Then the fancy restaurant, oh that you recommended by the way, suffers a powercut so we end up eating in a freaking diner where I have a complete melt down and cry all over the burgers, and then my house is set on fire."

"I think that last one was Puck and not the universe."

"Do you think it's a sign? Some higher power trying to stop me from proposing?"

"Right, because God has nothing better to do than interfere in the life of Santana Lopez."

"Well something is messing with me here. We planned this, Q, right down to the last detail, and yet I don't think I've been able to achieve anything on that stupid list."

"Maybe it's a good thing." She hears Quinn sigh. "It's not like you even wanted to do it like this."

Quinn has a point, but it's not like trying to do it her way has ever worked out well for her in the past.

"Just ask her."

"What?"

"Just ask her. Right now. Forget about the stupid list."

"Forget your stupid list? Did you really just say that?"

"Look, I didn't write it, okay? You asked for my advice and well, what do I know about this kind of thing? I've never even been with a guy long enough to start thinking about marriage."

"So who wrote the list?" She has a bad feeling about this, and is not sure she wants to hear the answer.

"Rachel."

"Berry?" Yeah, she definitely didn't want to know. "You let me follow a list that came from the crazy mind of Rachel Berry? You're so lucky you're at the end of a telephone line right now, Fabray, or I'd kick your ass all the way back to Chicago."

"I'm sorry, okay?

Sorry really doesn't help her much here. Now she's back to having no plan, and no idea how to do this. Waiting and doing this on that beach is looking like a very attractive option right now.

"S, listen. You've been putting this off for so long, don't make the same mistake again. I think you're waiting for this perfect moment, but it'll never happen. Just tell her you love her and that you want to marry her. That's all this needs."

She shoves her hands in her pockets. "You've got the ring."

"Does it matter? Just ask her, Santana. Just ask her."

They stay on the line in silence for a moment, but as she stands there staring at Brittany, she decides that Quinn is right. "Thanks, Q."

"Call me when it's done?"

"Maybe, or I might just leave you hanging after everything you've put me through today."

"Bitch."

"You know it."

Quinn hangs up on her, and she takes a deep breath. She can do this, right? She walks down the street until she's standing next to Brittany. "What are we looking at?" She peers up into the tree, but can't see anything that requires their full attention.

"I think he's stuck."

"Who?" She gets her answer when she hears a miaowing from somewhere in the branches. Sure enough there is a large brown cat crouched on a branch, staring down at them. "Oh come on." She really can't catch a break tonight. She knows immediately that this won't end anywhere good, but if she can just distract Brittany then maybe she'll forget about the stupid cat, and well what better distraction than her getting down on one knee. "Listen, B, I want to..."

"Maybe we should phone the fire brigade so they can come help him."

"Britt, I don't think the fire brigade ever really rescued cats from trees. That's just like an urban legend or something. I think." Besides she's pretty sure that they have more important things to do, like put out house fires.

"Then who do you call for this kind of thing?"

"No-one. Eventually it'll figure out how to get down on its own."

"But we can't just leave him up there."

Yes, they can. "I'm pretty sure he's not even stuck, babe."

"But what if he is?"

"He isn't." She rubs at her forehead. Arguing with Brittany over a cat brings back memories of Lord Tubbington, God rest his soul, and she guesses it's doing the same for Brittany as she seems to be getting upset. Oh yeah, this is really not going to end well.

"What if I just go up there and check."

Brittany starts towards the tree and Santana has to act fast to grab her arm. "Are you kidding? No way am I letting you climb a fucking tree. Not in that dress, or those heels. You'll break your neck. No, no chance."

"But San." She draws her name out, like she always does when she wants to make her do something she doesn't want to do.

"Hold on, I have a better idea." Her eyes search around the ground until she finds what she's looking for. She picks up a fairly large rock and hefts it in her hand, before she can do anything else though, Brittany is grabbing her, a horrified look on her face.

"San, you can't hit him with a rock."

"Relax, I wasn't going to throw it _at _him, just near him. He'll move out the way."

"What if he doesn't?"

"Well one way or another I'd get him down from out of the tree." And the sooner she does that, the sooner she'll have Brittany's full attention.

Brittany slowly lets go of her, though she doesn't look convinced that this is a good idea.

Santana pulls back her arm and throws the rock at the branch, aiming a short distance away from the cat. She hits her mark, but she didn't consider the fact that the rock would ricochet off the tree and hurtle back in their direction, where it bounces off the hood of a parked car. They freeze, both holding their breath, expecting the car alarm to go off. After a few minutes of nothing happening, they begin to relax.

Brittany walks over to the car, poking at what appears to be a fresh dent in the bodywork. "Do you think we'd better leave a note?"

"I think we'd better get the hell out of here, just in case someone's called the cops." She hooks her arm through Brittany's and tries to pull her away from both the car and the tree.

"But San, he's still stuck up there."

Sure enough the stupid animal hasn't even moved an inch. "He's not stuck, in fact he probably likes it up there. Lets just leave him alone, yeah, babe?"

Brittany keeps her eyes on the tree, biting down on her bottom lip.

She sighs. "You want me to go up there, don't you?" Brittany and animals have always been a bad combination for her. It always seems like that whenever Brittany tries to help some poor creature, she's always the one left bleeding. They never attack Brittany for some reason, but they always seem to think she's fair game.

"Good people are kind to animals."

"That's not fair, Britt. That's like emotional blackmail." She folds her arms, studying the tree to see if it's even possible for her to get up there. It's been a long time since she's even tried climbing a tree.

"I can always use normal blackmail if you want. Tell you I'd hold out on sex if you don't do this." She feels her move to stand behind her, her arms wrapping around her stomach, and she presses a kiss to her neck. "Or bribery. Promise to do _anything _you want if you do this one tiny thing for me."

She shivers as Brittany starts to kiss her neck, sucking on the pulse point, and she can't help tilting her head to give her more access, can't bite back the moan that falls from her lips, but then, her point made, Brittany is pulling away.

"Well what's it going to be?"

She looks from Brittany to the tree and back, before letting out a huff. "Fine. But if Garfield up there attacks me, then I'll be throwing more than rocks at him."

Ten minutes later, she finds herself clinging to a branch, three feet away from the cat, who still hasn't moved. She's made the mistake of looking down, and now everything is spinning.

Brittany's watching her with a worried expression, as if she's only know realized what a bad idea this was. "San, you've turned kind of green."

"Really, Britt? Really?"

"Maybe you should just come back down."

She would if she could. Instead she seems to be stuck up here.

"Do the fire brigade rescue people from trees?"

Oh no, she is not having anyone rescue her, no way. She can do this, she can. She somehow finds it in her to make it to the next branch and slowly inches along it towards her furry friend. He had been watching her with disinterest, but now she's closer to him, the hair on his back is standing up, and he hisses at her. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to throw a rock at him. He's moving towards her now, and she tries to move away from him. When he takes a swipe at her with his claws, she cries out and then she's falling. And then pain, lots of pain.

She thinks Brittany's crouching beside her, pulling her head into her lap.

There's a soft thud as the cat drops to the floor next to them. He hisses at her then runs off into the bushes.

She attempts to glare after him, but it only seems to make the pain worse. "Told you he wasn't stuck."

* * *

><p>She really hadn't intended for their evening to end in the emergency room. In fact, that's probably the last place she wanted to play any part in tonight's activities. She'd tried to insist that she was fine, even if she might have been having a little trouble breathing, but Brittany hadn't given her a choice in the matter.<p>

Now that's she here, she's extremely grateful for that though, if only because whatever drugs they've given her so far have at least taken the edge off the pain, and she doesn't feel like it's killing her to get air into her lungs any longer.

They're now sitting in an exam room while her doctor, who looks like he should be starring in some CW teen drama instead of treating patients, is flicking through her chart and making notes.

Brittany is standing in the far corner of the room, backed against the wall, where she's been since Santana got back from x-ray. She looks about five seconds away from having a panic attack, and Santana's more worried about her right now than she is her own condition.

Young Doctor finally looks up. "Well, looking at your x-rays, it doesn't seem like you've done as much damage as I'd feared."

She keeps her eyes on Brittany, wondering if she should maybe ask this guy to forget about her for a minute and just check Brittany over. At least she's breathing right now, just about, but she isn't quite sure that Brittany's doing the same.

"Your left seventh and eighth ribs are fractured, but other than that you appear to be in one piece." That's something at least. "The bad news I'm afraid is you're looking at a four to six week recovery period, and quite a bit of pain."

"Really? Because so far it hasn't hurt at all."

He ignores her, he's no doubt had worse patients than her. "I'll make you an outpatients appointment, and I'm gonna prescribe you some pain relief." He jots something else down on her chart. "The important thing is that you rest to give your ribs chance to heal. No strenuous activities, definitely no heavy lifting, or twisting."

"What about flying?" She finally manages to drag her eyes away from Brittany to look at him. "I'm supposed to be on a plane tomorrow night."

"I really wouldn't recommend it. I would suggest delaying your trip by a couple of weeks at least, if not longer."

That isn't what she wants to hear. "What if I can't delay it?"

He sighs. "You could aggravate the injury. Plus I would imagine the whole experience would cause you a fair bit of discomfort. Any turbulence and you'd know about it."

"So what you're saying is it'd hurt like a bitch, but there's nothing to stop me from doing it?"

"Are you even listening to him?" It's the first time Brittany's spoken since they've been in this room. "You're not going anywhere, okay?" Her voice breaks slightly and Santana really wishes that she could leap off this hospital bed and wrap her arms around her without passing out. "You're not going anywhere." Brittany takes a shaky breathe, and then folds her arms, fixing her don't mess with me expression onto her face. "I don't care how important this trip, that you didn't even tell me about, is for work..."

"It's not..."

"I don't care. You're not going, and that's that."

Young Doctor looks like he really doesn't want to get involved in a domestic dispute and has slowly been edging towards the door. "I'll go get you your pain meds, and then we can get started on the discharge papers." He makes a hasty retreat, leaving the two of them alone.

Brittany sighs, and slumps back against the wall. "Sorry."

"For what?" She frowns, not seeing what Brittany has to apologise for.

"Sorry, that I'm not handling this well. You're hurt and the only thing I've done is yell at you. It's just..." She pushes off the wall, but doesn't come any closer. "It's just you and hospitals. I don't think I could ever go through that again, I just couldn't."

"Come here, just come here." Brittany does as she asks, and she can see that she's trembling slightly. She reaches out, resting her hands on her waist, wincing as that causes a rush of her pain in her left side. "Shit."

"San?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine." She presses her eyes closed, while she waits for the pain to subside. That doctor had better hurry back with the drugs.

"This is all my fault. I made you climb that tree and you got hurt." She feels Brittany placing her arms around her neck, feels her gently kiss her forehead.

She opens her eyes, and can see nothing except a blue haze of guilt and concern. "Wasn't your fault." She carefully leans forward until her head is resting against Brittany's chest. "It was an accident, Britt. And I'm okay. They wouldn't be letting you take me home if I wasn't, would they?"

"I love you so much, just the thought of losing you..."

She wishes she could promise that nothing like that will ever happen, but they both know better than that. Instead she just pulls her closer, and they stay wrapped together until the doctor returns.

* * *

><p>She doesn't remember much about the ride home. Actually she doesn't remember much after they gave her a shot of what she thinks was morphine. Whatever it was, it has her feeling like she's floating. Like everything else is far away, or she's under water. She's aware of Brittany speaking to her, but the words don't make any sense.<p>

"Does it smell like burning in here to you?"

They're in the hallway, she thinks. She can't even keep her eyes open now. She knows they're moving, and then she's being made to sit down. She leans back, wanting nothing other than to sleep, but it's like her mind is trying to remind her of something, trying to tell her that there's something she's forgetting to do.

"What happened to the curtains?"

She's not sure if Brittany's talking to her, but she really can't seem to answer her.

"Did you rearrange the furniture at some point without me noticing until now?"

She manages to open one eye and looks around the room. Things are definitely not where they usually are. She's going to kill Quinn, as soon as she's feeling better.

"Are those scorch marks on the wall?"

"Looks like it."

She's vaguely aware of Brittany leaving the room, no doubt going to check on any damage to the rest of the house.

She closes her eyes again, focusing on taking deep breaths. She's aware of voices, but everything is so cloudy she can't quite make them out, she can hear the words, but can't understand them, as if her brain can't translate what she's hearing through the pain and the drugs.

She thinks Brittany is sitting on the chair arm, stroking her head gently, but she may be dreaming. "Santana?"

She can't reply, can't even open her eyes any more. The voices start again.

"Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she will be."

"What happened?"

"She fell out of a tree."

"What was she doing in a tree? No, you know, never mind, I don't even want to know."

"What the hell happened to my house, Quinn?"

"Puck happened."

She thinks she should be taking something from this conversation, that there's some information there that she didn't previously know, but again she can't seem to make her mind take it in.

"I take it she didn't get around to asking?" Somebody sighs. "I'm sorry, Britt. I think I screwed up here. Did she tell you she was going to take you to Hawaii for the week?"

"She mentioned something about going out of town at the hospital. I just got mad at her. You could have told me about that part of her plan."

"Hey, I didn't want to ruin all her surprises."

She thinks there's some reason she should be mad at Quinn, a reason beyond her destroying their home, but it's like it's just out of her grasp. She's falling deeper into whatever this blackness is and they feel further away from her now.

"I'll make us some coffee."

She's vaguely aware of lips on her forehead, but as hard as she tries, she can't seem to open her eyes.

"It's okay, babe, just rest. I've waited this long, I can keep waiting. I'll wait forever for you. I promise."

She tries to hang onto the words because she has a vague feeling that they're important, if she can just keep them in her head, then she might just be able to figure out what they mean, but they drift away, and after a few more moments so does everything else as sleep claims her.


	6. Chapter 6

Santana really isn't sure just how Quinn managed to invite herself to join them for New Year. She sure didn't ask her to, and she's pretty sure Brittany didn't either. It's only been six weeks since she was last in town, and her ribs have only just fully healed after that visit. And yeah, she's chosen to blame Quinn for everything that happened on that night. To make matters worse she had thought Quinn was only flying in tomorrow, on New Year's Eve, then at least she would have only had to put up with her company for a couple of days at most, but no such luck as Quinn phoned her a few hours ago to ask her to meet her at some bar after she finished work.

When she arrives, she hears Quinn's voice before she sees her. What's more surprising is she also hears Puck's voice, the two of them having a heated debate about something. She fights her way through the crowd, following their voices and finds them, leaning against the bar. They don't seem to have spotted her yet, so she hangs back to listen to their conversation.

"You'd not supposed to interfere." Puck is pretty much in Quinn's face, his arms flailing around to make his point.

"How did you even know I'd be here?"

"Rachel told me."

"I can't believe her. She was all for me coming here."

"Yeah, well guess she had a crisis of conscience or something. She wants to win this fair and square. Not have you fix it."

"I'm not fixing it."

"Really? You just decide to come see Santana out of the blue? It's all just a coincidence?"

"Listen, Puck, I don't give a damn about your stupid bet."

"What bet?" They both spin around at the sound of Santana's voice, and she's sure they both pale slightly to see her standing right behind them, hand on her hip. "Well?" Neither of them will even look at her. "I swear to god, if one of you doesn't start explaining what the hell this is all about, then..."

They glance at each other quickly, as if silently debating who has to tell her. Apparently it's Quinn that loses. "Puck's been running a book."

She doesn't like where this is going. "On what exactly?"

"On when you'd propose to Brittany."

Puck shoves his hands in his pockets. "Quinn started it."

"How exactly did I start it?" Quinn scowls at him.

"You're the one who bet me that she'd do it before the end of the year."

"Yeah but I'm not the one who opened it up to everyone we know."

Santana feels like she needs a drink right now, or at least to sit down. "You jerks have all been betting on this? All this time?" She takes a step towards Puck, who tries to back away but he's trapped between her and the bar. "Is that why you set my house on fire?" She rounds on Quinn. "And why you were pushing me so much to propose? Pretending that you just wanted to help because you were my friend and you cared about me and Brittany?"

Quinn shakes her head. "No, that wasn't..."

"God, you two must think I'm fucking stupid." Santana keeps her attention on Quinn. She'd expect this kind of thing from Puck, but Quinn, it hurts more than she'd like to admit that she would play her like this. "Is you life really that empty and pathetic, that you need to get your kicks from screwing around with mine? Are you so sad and lonely that you have nothing better to do with your time?" Some voice in her head is yelling at her to stop talking, that lashing out at Quinn like this won't help anyone, but she needs some release for her anger. The alternative is to go all Lima Heights on Puck, but she doesn't think her ribs are quite healed enough for that yet. "You walk around acting all high and mighty, like you're better than everyone else because you went to Yale and you've got some high powered job, that nobody understands what it is you even do by the way. But you know what, Fabray? You're still the same manipulative scheming bitch you were in high school. Quinn Fabray the fucking Ice Queen. Nobody sticks around you for long because if they did they'd probably end up freezing to death."

She expects the slap, she deserves it afterall, so it's no surprise when Quinn's palm collides with her face. It still stings though.

Quinn looks like she wants to say something, but then instead just pushes past her, heading towards the bathroom.

Santana sinks down onto a bar stool, resting her head in her hands.

"Dude, what the hell?" Puck's frowning at her, disapproval in his eyes, and that makes her feel even worse. "You were out of line, way outta line."

"Yeah." She can't argue with that.

"Listen, I only started the bet afterwards. When you didn't propose. And Quinn, she was the one who had faith in you, you know? She was convinced you'd pull your head out of your ass and ask Brittany before tomorrow night. I'm the one who thought you didn't have the balls to do it." He sits down beside her. "I'm the only one who thought that. Everyone else all bet that you'd have done it by now. Except for Rachel who was convinced you'd wait until New Year's Eve so it'd be all romantic and shit." He sighs. "For once, I really wish I wasn't right."

He shouts over the barman, orders two beers and hands her one. "You're an idiot."

Santana pauses, bottle half way to her mouth. She slowly places it back on the bar and turns on the stool to shoot Puck her best death glare. "Excuse me?"

He takes a long drink of his own beer. "You heard me." Apparently he feels the need to repeat himself anyway. "You're an idiot."

As if she didn't feel bad enough as it was, now she's sitting in a bar about to start drowning her sorrows, and being called an idiot by Noah Puckerman of all people.

"How long you been carrying that fucking ring around with you now?"

Too long. Far too long if she's honest. "What's your point?"

"That it's time to man up, Lopez." He places a hand on her shoulder. "Though it would be really awesome if you waited until after midnight tomorrow to do it. Then I'd still win the bet." When she glares at him again, he just shrugs. "What? I kinda need the money. Now are you gonna go check on Quinn, or am I gonna have to do it? Because I will, but me wandering into the ladies bathroom usually only ends in me being kicked out of the place. Or arrested."

"I'll go." She climbs to her feet and slowly walks over to the bathroom. She opens the door to find Quinn leaning against one of the sinks, wiping at her eyes. Santana lets the door fall closed behind her, but stays hovering near it, just in case she needs to make a quick getaway. "Okay, so I'm kind of a bitch. Q, you've known me long enough to know that."

"Yeah, I know. I guess sometimes I forget though, and think that you might just have grown up finally. Guess not. You're still the same old Santana, who's too scared of what everyone else thinks about her to go after the things she really wants in life."

"That's not..."

Quinn spins around to face her. "Then why haven't you asked her by now? Doesn't it bother you how it always takes you so long to do anything? You and Brittany should have been together since Freshman year, but no, it took you three years of High School before you got your act together. And now you've had years to propose and you're still putting it off."

Quinn has a point, but she doesn't plan on admitting that to her face. "How is this all on me? There's nothing to have stopped Brittany being the one to propose. I don't even know if she wants to marry me."

"Of course she wants to marry you."

"Yeah? Then why hasn't _she _asked _me_, Quinn?"

"Because she's waiting for _you _to ask _her_, you idiot."

Santana stumbles back slightly, feeling as if Quinn has slapped her again. "What?"

Quinn sighs, runs a hand over her face. "Nothing, forget I said anything."

"No, Quinn, why would she be waiting for me to ask her?"

Quinn stares at her for several seconds, as if debating whether to tell her the truth or not. "She found the ring."

"What? When?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, of course it fucking matters."

"No, it doesn't. Just trust me when I say she wants to marry you."

Santana leans back against the door, her mind replaying dozens of conversations she's had with Brittany, searching for any hints that Brittany had known about her plans, wondering how many times she's unknowingly disappointed Brittany by backing out at the last second. "You say that, but ring or no ring, if she really wanted to marry me, she could still have asked me. Why didn't she, Quinn?"

"You're asking the wrong person. I've never understood Brittany's logic. There's only you that has ever been able to figure her out."

Santana's silent for a moment while she thinks about it. "Because she doesn't want to marry me. What other reason is there?"

"God, you two are driving me crazy. After all these years, are you really both still so insecure in your relationship?" She scowls at Quinn and is about to argue, but Quinn just holds up a hand to silence her. "Well I've had enough. I'm sick of waiting and waiting to be Maid Of Honor at my best friends' wedding. I even set up the perfect proposal scenario for you and you still managed to screw it up."

"Hold up, just remind me who set my house on fire?"

Quinn dismisses her comment with a wave. "Now you're just making excuses. I came here tonight to try and convince you to just ask her. And okay, so maybe I really, really don't want to loose the bet, but I also don't want to see you let another year end without doing this. I care too much about you to let that happen, okay?"

Santana wraps her arms around herself, and once again sinks back against the door. "You sure she wants to marry me?"

"Yes." Quinn shakes her head. "And just so you know Rachel has already picked out three songs that she will be singing at your wedding reception. And you'll be pleased to know only two of them are Barbra songs."

"Great, that's just great."

"And Sam's going to write you two a song, as he says he never did repay you for Trouty Mouth."

"Have you like planned my entire wedding, Quinn?"

Quinn shrugs. "Somebody had to, seeing as you're incapable of even planning the proposal, and besides it's kind of my job as the Maid of Honor."

Santana somehow senses she won't get anywhere arguing with her right now, not unless she wants to have to deal with Scary Quinn, and she really doesn't have the energy for that.

"Santana, if you want this to happen, all you have to do is ask her"

It all sounds so simple when Quinn says it like that. "So who wins the bet if I do it today?"

* * *

><p>She goes home to find the kitchen, well trashed is the only word for it. Pots and pans and various cooking utensils are scattered across the counters, fill the sink. There's a faint smell of burning and a layer of flour covers most of the room, including Brittany, who's currently busy stirring some strange looking mixture in a bowl. She's so focused on the task that she hasn't even noticed Santana enter.<p>

Santana leans in the doorway and just takes in the carnage before her. "Britt, whatcha doing?"

Brittany jumps at the sound of her voice, immediately looking guilty. "You're home."

"Yeah."

"I thought I'd have time to clean up before you got back." The mixture is giving Brittany some trouble, and she gives up trying to make it move like she wants it to and sets the bowl down on the counter. "I wanted to bake something for the party tomorrow. Everyone else always brings food and we just always bring chips and dip."

Santana can't help smiling. "But the chips and dip are the most awesome thing you can take, babe. Minimum effort and a guaranteed success. I mean who doesn't love chips and dip?"

Brittany doesn't look convinced. "I know, but I just wanted to show that we can do more than that."

"And how'd that work out for ya?"

Brittany gestures towards two baking trays that are stood on the counter behind her and Santana walks over to inspect them. The fact that she can't even tell what the contents are supposed to be is not a good sign. They could be cupcakes, or maybe some sort of deformed muffins, she really can't be sure. It doesn't help that one tray has been burnt to resemble chargrilled rocks, and the others, well she's no expert baker, but she thinks they should have risen at least a little bit. "They don't look too bad." She has a really bad feeling that she's going to have to at least try one of them and she can feel her stomach protest at the thought.

"San, you don't have to lie. They suck."

"Yeah, sorry, Britt, but they kinda do." She feels Brittany's arms wrap around her waist and she leans back into the embrace, not even caring that she's probably getting flour all over her right now. "But hey, maybe third time lucky." She nods towards the bowl that Brittany has abandoned.

"I dunno. I think I've only ended up making cement."

"Well that has to count for something, right?" She turns her head so that she can capture Brittany's lips in a soft, slow kiss.

When she pulls away, she finds Brittany frowning at her, then she asks, "San, are you okay?"

"I just really love you, you know that right?" She hopes Brittany does, she at least tries to make sure that she does. "And I just want to tell you how happy you make me, how much I love my life."

"I know."

"It's just sometimes..." She swallows, not sure she can do this with Brittany gazing so intently at her, so she moves out of her grasp, putting some distance between them. "Do you ever want more than all this?"

Brittany turns to face her, and Santana knows she isn't sure what she's talking about. "Do you mean like us having kids?"

She's sure her heart stops at the very thought of that. In fact she might just be about to have a panic attack. She can't even work up the nerve to ask Brittany to marry her, how is she going to ever get her act together enough to be a mother.

Brittany must notice how she's frozen, as her face is now full of worry and she takes a step towards her. "Okay, so you didn't mean kids."

"I need to sit down." She hadn't meant children, but that's all part of it. Part of the worry that she will never be able to give Brittany everything she wants.

She finds herself being guided into the living room where Brittany sits her down on the sofa. "Santana, what's going on?" Brittany kneels down in front of her, resting her hands on her thighs, and all Santana can think is it's supposed to be her down on one knee.

"Sometimes I just worry that this isn't enough for you, that you deserve more." She finds she can't even bring herself to meet Brittany's gaze, so instead she stares at her hands that she has clasped together in her lap. Her eyes are already starting to water and she can't allow herself to cry right now, she just can't.

"Don't." Brittany reaches out and gently tilts her chin, forcing her to look at her. "We've been through this. I don't want more. I don't need more. I just want you."

"But what if I want more?" Brittany's face falls at that, and Santana can't miss the panic in her eyes. "Shit, no, I didn't mean..." She's screwing this all up again, she now has Brittany thinking she doesn't want to be with her at all and she knows she needs to act fast to fix this. She slides off the sofa, pushing the coffee table backwards slightly to give herself more room. If she's going to do this, then she's going to do it properly, so she shifts so she's on one knee. So she has no idea what she's going to say. Hasn't Brittany always said she's found it cute when she rambles? Well hopefully that's still true. She takes both of Brittany's hands in hers and takes a deep breath.

"Wait." There's still panic in Brittany's eyes and Santana can feel what little confidence she'd managed to work up slipping away from her. "You don't have to do this."

"Do you not want to?" Her voice is a lot smaller than she'd have liked, and she can't seem to stop it from shaking. She's going to kill Quinn for convincing her that Brittany wanted this as much as she did.

"No, I do, of course I do, Santana." Brittany pulls one hand free from hers and rests it against her chest, over her heart. "But I just need to know that it's what you want. Because you've never seemed sure before, and I want you to be sure. Because if you're not, it's okay. It's okay. I can wait. I will always wait for you. I will never get tired of waiting for you."

"But what if I am? What if _I'm _tired of waiting?"

"Yeah?" There's a hopeful look in Brittany's eyes, a slight smile playing on her lips.

She nods. "Yeah."

"Then why don't you do something about it?"

She can do that, except maybe she can't, as once again she finds she has no idea what to say. She tries to think back to that damn speech Quinn had forced her to memorise the last time she'd been planning on doing this, but whilst she can still remember it, the words are all Quinn's, or Berry's actually, and now they feel all wrong. She sighs, wipes at her eyes, determined not to start crying at least. "God, I suck at this. I don't have a fucking clue what to say."

"Yes, you do." Brittany brings her hand to her lips and kisses her knuckles. "You can do this."

"I don't have the ring on me." Her eyes dart towards the staircase and she wonders if she should quickly run to get it before even trying to go any further.

Brittany kisses her hand again. "Doesn't matter."

"I should..."

"You're stalling."

Maybe she is. "I..."

"Santana, you can do this. I know you can do this."

She's never felt like she could, that's always been the problem, but the way Brittany is looking at her right now, with nothing but love and adoration, and patience, she can't forget the patience, well maybe for the first time she's starting to believe that she might actually be able to go through with it. "I love you." She starts simple, with the truth. "I've never loved anyone else, and I never will love anyone else. It's always been all about you for me, Brittany." Her hands are shaking now and Brittany must notice as she takes them in her own again.

Santana pauses, but after inhaling deeply, she continues, "And I've always known that we were going to spend the rest of our lives together. We had to, because I knew I could never live without you. I could never even begin to picture my life without you in it." Even thinking about that now starts the tears falling and this time she doesn't bother to try and stop them. "And I've always known that we're endgame, baby, we've always been endgame, but now I want everyone else to know it too. I want to be able to tell people, this is my wife, Brittany. We promised each other forever a long time ago, but I want to stand up in front of all our friends and family, everyone we know, and even all the stupid Glee Club because I know how much it'd mean to you to have them there, and make that promise again." She actually finds the thought of doing that kind of terrifying now that she thinks of it, but she knows she'd do it for Brittany. "Or you know, we could do it on a beach somewhere, that'd be okay too. Preferably without a single witness around. Except for Quinn, as apparently she has to be my Maid of Honor. Or your Maid of Honor. Or both. I'm not too sure." She shakes it off, she can worry about Quinn later.

"So what I'm trying to say is..."

"Yes." Brittany flings herself forward, wrapping her arms around Santana's neck.

Santana struggles to stop them both from falling backwards to the floor. "What?"

"Yes. I'll marry you."

Santana raises an eyebrow, but can't help smiling. "Seriously? After all that you're not even going to let me ask the actual question?"

Brittany blushes and sinks back onto her knees. "Sorry. Guess I got a little over excited. Go on."

"Okay, Brittany S Pierce, I love you, and for some completely unknown reason, you love me, so will you make it official? Will you marry me?"

She's ready this time for when Brittany throws herself forward, but not for the urgent way Brittany begins kissing her, and this time she can't keep them upright. Her back hits the carpet with a soft thud, and the next thing she knows Brittany is straddling her. When Brittany finally releases her lips and instead starts peppering kisses across her jaw and her neck, she shivers. "What are you doing?"

"Having engagement sex with my fiancée."

"Erm, Britt?"

Brittany pulls away slightly so she can make eye contact with her. "Yeah?"

"You didn't answer." She attempts to pout, but knows it never normally gets her anything other than an eye roll.

"I did answer."

"Yeah, you answered before I asked, but you didn't answer after I asked."

"What?"

She knows what she means. It's not her fault if she can't think clearly enough to explain it right now, it's Brittany's for kissing her like that. "It'd be nice if you answered properly, that's all."

There it is, the eyeroll, but Brittany sits back up, pulling Santana with her. "Santana Lopez, you are the most awesome person on this whole planet. Probably on any planet actually. And I am so lucky that you decided you wanted to spend your life with me. And I never thought it was possible, but I love you more now than I've ever done. Of course I want to marry you. I've always wanted to marry you. And someday when you stop freaking out every time I mention it, I want to have a family with you."

The panic's still there at the thought of children, but for some reason all of a sudden the idea doesn't seem quite as scary as it once did. "One step at a time, Britt, one step at a time."

Brittany smiles, shaking her head slightly. "I'm okay with that. I told you, I'll always wait for you."

Santana leans forward so she can press their foreheads together. "I love you."

"I love you."

They stay like that for a while, just grinning at each other, but then Brittany nudges her. "Now can we have engagement sex?"

"What kind of fiancée would I be, if I denied you anything you asked?" As Brittany lowers her to the ground, all she can think is how much she likes that word. Fiancée But she can't help thinking she likes the word wife a whole lot more, and it might have taken them a hell of a long time to get this far, but now that they're here, she's determined to never make Brittany wait that long for anything again. If that means a wedding and kids by this time next year, well maybe she just might be okay with that.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I just want to say thank you to everyone who's taken the time to read this fic, especially those who've reviewed or added it to Favorite Story or Story Alert. You guys are awesome.<strong>

**It's ended up a lot longer than originally planned, but sometimes Santana refuses to get her act together when you want her to. Quite a few people were questioning Brittany's motivation, so I might be tempted to write a companion piece at some point from Britt's POV. We shall see.**

**Thanks again, guys.**


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